'RIME 


Y  *» 


OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


PACTOLUS  PRIME 


JUDGE  TOURGEE'S  BOOKS. 


The  following  list  of  the  works  of  the  distinguished 
author  of  Pactolu§  Prime,  with  the  date  of 
publication  of  each,  will  be  of  interest  to  many 
thousands  of  his  readers  : 

A  ROYAL  GENTLEMAN  (first  styled  TOINETTE),  1874 
FIGS  AND  THISTLES,  1879 

A  FOOL'S  ERRAND,  1879 

BRICKS  WITHOUT  STRAW,  1880 
JOHN  EAX  (and  MAMELON),  1882 
HOT  PLOWSHARES,  1883 

AN  APPEAL  TO  C^SAR,  1884 

BLACK  ICE,  1885 
BUTTON'S  INN,  1886 

THE  VETERAN  AND  His  PIPE,   1887 
LETTERS  TO  A  KING,  1888 

WITH  GAUGE  &  SWALLOW,  1889 
PACTOLUS  PRIME,  1890 


L 


PACTOLUS  PRIME 


BY 

ALBION  w.  TOURG£E 

• 

AUTHOR    OF     "A    FOOL'S    ERRAND,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
CASSELL   PUBLISHING   COMPANY 

104   &    106    FOURTH    AVENUE 


COPYRIGHT, 

1890, 
BY  O.  M.  DUNHAM. 

All  r/f/itt  reserved. 


PRESS   W.    L.    MERSHON   &  CO. 
KAHWAV,    N.   J. 


PUBLISHER'S   PREFACE. 


/TAHE  works  of  the  author  of  this  volume  have 
1  probably  covered  a  wider  range  of  types  and 
embraced  a  greater  variety  of  characters  than 
those  of  any  living  American  novelist.  Steadily 
refusing  to  be  affected  by  the  craze  to  be  counted 
a  disciple  of  any  particular  "  school  of  fiction,"  he 
has  pursued  his  own  course  of  depicting  men  and 
women  as  they  are, — the  creatures  of  motive  and 
environment.  As  a  result  his  works  are  crowded 
with  strongly  drawn,  life-like  types,  each  one  the 
result  of  a  distinctly  traced  inheritance  and  a 
specific  environment,  the  effects  of  which  are  never 
lost  sight  of  by  the  reader. 

In  method  he  is  not  only  original,  but  almost 
unique.  He  does  not  develope  his  characters  by 
self-analytic  monologue  or  the  unnatural  expedient 
of  making  them  constant  seekers  for  advice  ;  but 
he  allows  his  readers  to  see  them  in  their  acts  and 
attendant  conversation,  and  in  the  reflected  life  of 
associated  lives.  The  excellence  of  this  method 
has  been  abundantly  shown  by  the  peculiarly  vivid 
impressions  his  works  have  left  on  the  minds  of 


21331B8 


PUBLISHER'S  PREFACE. 

their  readers.  No  one  is  able  to  escape  its  power  ; 
once  begun,  one  of  his  stories  must  be  read  to 
the  end. 

His  latest  work  is  a  striking  exposition  of  his 
peculiar  qualities  as  a  novelist,  and  stamps  upon 
the  mind  a  picture  which  no  reader  can  ever  forget. 
Pactolus  Prime  is  one  of  those  vivid  creations  of 
the  novelist  which  will  stand  out  in  the  history  of 
literature  as  a  type  in  which  the  sentiment  of  an 
epoch  is  made  incarnate.  He  is  the  Edipus  of 
American  fiction,  not  less  marked  than  his  classical 
prototype  in  the  singular  pathos  of  his  life,  in  the 
patience  and  hopeless  bitterness  with  which  he 
faces  his  destiny,  and  in  the  exalted  philosophy 
with  which  he  passes  by  the  half-unconscious  in- 
struments of  his  doom,  to  denounce  and  defy  the 
impalpable  tendencies  which  impel  him  and  them 
toward  a  fate  as  inexorable  as  that  which  the  weird 
sisters  meted  out  to  the  woful  victim  of  the  most 
thrilling  of  the  Greek  tragedies. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  AN  ADVENT  MORN, i 

II  A  CROWDED  INN,  -                ...  5 

III.  A  PROFESSOR  OF  THE  BLACK  ART,    -  20 

IV.  MASTER  AND  DISCIPLE,  -        ...  33 

V.  WHAT  THE  HERALD-ANGELS  SAW,    -        -  51 

VI.  AN  ASSESSMENT  OF  DAMAGES.        -  70 

VII.  SOME  EXPERT  TESTIMONY,         -                -  81 

VIII.  COUNTERCLAIM  AND  SET-OFF,        -        -  93 

IX.  "  IF  WISHES  WERE  FISHES,"                      -  100 

X.  A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION,                        -  108 

XI.  THE  FEET  OF  Two  ADMINISTRATIONS,      -  131 

XII.  AN  UNSATISFACTORY  CLIENT,        -        -  144 

XIII.  A  PUZZLED  COUNSELLOR,    -        ...  157 

XIV.  PROFESSIONAL  COURTESY,  175 
XV.  BAFFLED  ENTERPRISE,                 -        -        -  181 

XVI.  AN  INTRACTABLE  DONEE,       -        -        -  192 

XVII.  THE  BOUNDARY  OF  RIGHT,        -        -        -  211 

XVIII.  AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL,  -        ...  219 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGfc 

XIX.     A  PROMISE  FULFILLED,      -                -  229 

XX.     THE  FIAT  OF  SCIENCE,  ....  236 

XXI.     "AND  FATE  AT  LENGTH  WAS  KIND,"  256 

XXII.     THE  RETURN  OF  PROCESS,  268 

XXIII.  THE  ADVANTAGE  OF  BEING  DEAD,   -        -    284 

XXIV.  A  TRUE  RECORD,   -  290 
XXV.     "BLOOD  WILL  TELL,"        -  324 

XXVI.     THE  LAW  OF  PROGRESS,        -        -        -  330 

XXVII.     WHAT  IT  is  TO  BE  A  HERO,      -        -  347 

XXVIII.     PENALTIES, -  353 


PACTOLUS  PRIME. 


I. 

AN  ADVENT  MORN. 

IT  was  Christmas  morning  in  Washington. 
The  eastern  sky  was  just  light  enough  to 
show  the  dark  outlines  of  the  Capitol  standing 
out  against  it.  A  driving  wind  swept  clouds  of 
dust  and  billows  of  fine,  hard-frozen  snow  along 
the  Avenue,  heaping  its  curiously  mingled  bur- 
den for  a  moment  in  the  sheltering  door-way 
and  then  sucking  it  out  with  some  queer  freak 
of  changeful  purpose  and  racing  to  the  near- 
est crossing,  as  if  to  hide  it  from  the  swift 
pursuing  gust.  The  signs  and  shutters  creaked 
and  slammed.  The  streets  were  deserted,  save 
here  and  there  some  lonely  figure  half-walked, 
half-trotted  before  the  gale,  or  with  bowed 
head  waveringly  faced  its  force.  The  long  rows 
of  lamps  shimmered  coldly  in  the  distance, 
while  on  the  wide  Avenues  the  electric  lights 
glared  down  hissing  and  flickering  in  their  un- 
canny radiance,  covering  the  dark,  wind-swept 
pavement  with  strange,  unreal  shadows. 


2  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

The  festivities  of  Christmas  Eve  had  ceased  ; 
they  had  been  too  furious  to  last.  The  deni- 
zens of  the  city  slept  ;  some  pillowed  on  pleas- 
ant memories,  some  happily  oblivious  of  evil 
deeds,  and  all  expectantly  dreaming  of  to- 
morrow's joys.  The  bells  of  St.  Aloysius  had 
sounded  at  midnight  the  Annunciation  chimes ; 
the  sleepers  had  waked  to  smile ;  the  revelers 
had  paused  to  approve.  The  Advent  morn 
had  come  to  the  Christian  capital  of  a  Chris- 
tian nation,  bringing  a  thrill  of  complacent 
joy  to  the  hearts  of  a  Christian  people,  sin- 
cerely grateful  that  they  are  "  not  as  other 
men." 

The  masses  who  rule  and  the  officials  who 
serve  slept  in  peace.  No  enemy  thundered 
at  the  gates  ;  no  traitor  plotted  within  the 
walls  ;  no  peril  threatened  the  Republic.  Free- 
dom held  its  court  beside  the  broad  Potomac. 
Prosperity  filled  all  the  land  !  Well  might  the 
nation  rejoice  and  the  denizens  of  the  metropo- 
lis rest  in  peace  !  The  hour  marked  the  flood- 
tide  of  contentment  in  the  happy  homes 
of  a  favored  nation.  Founded  in  justice,  it 
had  gathered  rich  harvests  of  "  the  peaceable 
fruits  of  righteousness."  Its  bursting  garners 
and  overflowing  treasury  demonstrated  how 
"righteousness  exalteth  a  nation,"  and  its 
happy  people  pitied  the  luckless  dwellers  in 


AN  ADVENT  MORN.  3 

unfortunate  lands  where  lean  exchequers  and 
impoverished  homes  attest  that  "  sin  is  a  dis- 
grace to  any  people."  No  wonder  they  pitied 
"  the  heathen  Turk,"  and  all  of  "  those  who  sit 
in  darkness,"  on  which  the  star  of  Bethlehem 
hath  not  shone.  Embosomed  in  righteousness 
lay  the  capital  city  of  that  nation  which  is 
the  consummate  flower  of  the  ripening  perfec- 
tions of  the  nineteenth  century  of  the  Christ- 
Child's  blissful  reign  ! 

Even  vice  was  silent  and  crime  was  still  as 
the  blessed  dawn  approached,  for  vice  was 
palsied  by  anticipatory  revels,  and  crime  had 
destroyed  its  potency  for  evil  by  the  fervor 
of  its  joy  at  the  approach  of  the  holy  festival. 
The  halls  of  legislation  were  silent.  The  Lobby 
rested.  The  White  House  door  was  shut. 
The  Departments  were  deserted.  The  gam- 
bling-hells were  closed.  The  saloons  were 
dark.  Only  carved  heroes  and  invisible  police- 
men watched  over  the  slumbering  city.  They 
and  the  angels,  of  course — the  herald  angels 
who  sang  above  Judea's  hills  so  many  centuries 
ago,  who  certainly  would  not  miss  an  oppor- 
tunity to  witness  the  fruition  of  the  message 
which  they  brought,  "  Peace  on  earth ;  good 
will  among  men."  They,  naturally  lingered 
above  the  capital  city  of  the  most  Christian 
nation  of  the  most  enlightened  epoch  of  the 


4  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

Christian  era,  to  note  the  fulfillment  of  proph- 
ecy— the  influence  of  that  transforming 
thought, 

The  Holiest  brought  to  earth  and  set, 
Before  a  wondering  world  on  Olivet ! 

How  they  were  pleased  with  what  they  be- 
held it  would  not  beseem  mortal  to  inquire. 
What  they  saw,  if  they  waited  until  the  gray, 
cold  dawn,  that  alone  we  may  presume  to  tell. 
And  this,  in  truth,  is  all  that  can  be  of  serious 
interest  to  the  world  of  to-day.  Angelic  opin- 
ions are  at  a  discount  in  this  age.  Even  what 
our  neighbor  thinks  is  of  far  less  consequence 
to  us  than  what  he  does.  What  he  thinks  con- 
cerns himself  alone;  what  he  does  touches 
us  as  well.  We  pity  his  woes — pity  is  very 
cheap — and  show  our  "  good  will  "  thereby  on 
each  recurrent  anniversary  of  the  Christ-Child's 
birth.  We  cannot  watch  all  our  neighbors,  or 
tell  what  all  of  them  did  on  the  "blessed  day  " 
of  which  we  write  ;  but  what  some  of  them 
were  doing  that  Christmas  morning,  "  before  it 
was  yet  day,"  these  pages  will  reveal. 


II. 

A  CROWDED   INN. 

IT  is  the  habit  of  inns  to  be  full  at  Christmas 
time, — a  habit  of  long  standing,  it  would 
seem,  for  there  was  no  place  for  the  mother  of 
our  Lord  in  the  one  at  Bethlehem,  some  nine- 
teen centuries  ago.  The  inns  of  Washington 
are  no  exception  to  this  general  rule.  Despite 
the  customary  legislative  recess,  the  great 
caravanseries  of  the  national  capital  are  sure  to 
be  crowded  to  overflowing  at  this  season. 
The  guests  begin  the  Christmas  festivities 
early  the  day  before,  fearful,  no  doubt,  that 
they  may  miss  some  of  the  exhilarating  in- 
fluences of  this  holy  festival.  As  Christmas 
Eve  closes  in,  the  tide  of  life  that  throngs  the 
great  rotunda,  surges  along  the  tesselated 
halls,  crowds  the  spacious  bar  and  chatters, 
roars,  and  lounges  in  the  capacious  waiting- 
rooms,  is  almost  unprecedented  in  any  other 
city  of  the  land.  But  the  exhilaration  is  too 
keen  to  last.  By  and  by  the  ebb  sets  in ;  the 
callers  depart ;  the  bar  is  closed  ;  the  absent 
guests  return.  Finally  the  last  roysterer  is 
5 


O  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"steered"  to  the  safe  harbor  of  his  room,  and 
the  last  "  dead-beat  "  unwillingly  persuaded  to 
abandon  the  kindly  warmth  of  its  corridors 
and  the  slumberous  comfort  of  its  chairs. 
Then  the  lights  are  turned  down  and  guests 
and  servants  enjoy  a  brief  period  of  repose. 
Only  the  clerk,  a  bell-boy  or  two,  and  the  night- 
watchmen  are  alert  of  all  the  mass  of  slum- 
bering life  that  fills  its  crowded  rooms. 

Naturally  enough,  Christendom  sleeps  late 
on  Christmas  morn,  and  nowhere  wakes  more 
unwillingly  than  in  the  capital  of  the  Republic. 
Not  only  the  night's  festivities,  but  some 
lingering  relics  of  the  slave's  saturnalia  have 
served  to  abbreviate  the  hours  of  slumber. 
The  "  Best  House  " — named  after  its  proprie- 
tor, though  the  term  was  punningly  applied  to 
its  quality  also, — was  still  silent,  therefore,  its 
windows  darkened  and  its  corridors  empty,  in 
the  early  morning,  while  the  storm  raged  with- 
out. The  clerk  had  abandoned  the  circular 
inclosure,  the  counter  surrounding  which  was 
piled  high  with  Christmas  gifts,  and  reclining 
in  an  easy-chair  with  his  legs  resting  on  another 
so  as  to  expose  the  soles  of  his  feet  to  the 
grateful  warmth  of  a  corrugated  steam-heater, 
slumbered  peacefully.  A  single  hall-boy  dozed 
upon  the  hard  seat  allotted  to  the  strong- 
legged  Mercurys  of  the  modern  hotel  service, 


A   CROWDED  INN.  7 

who,  lacking  wings,  and  forbidden  to  use  the 
elevator,  illustrate,  to  the  waiting  guests'  fre- 
quent discomfiture,  the  mechanical  axiom,  that 
"  what  is  gained  in  power  is  lost  is  time."  He 
slept  leaning  uncomfortably  over  the  iron 
elbow-rests  which  prevented  him  from  lying 
down,  and  were  intended  to  keep  him  awake. 
Sitting  bolt  upright  before  the  counter  on 
which  lay  the  open  register  wherein  the  names 
of  guests  were  entered,  snored  the  night-watch- 
man. He  had  evidently  made  a  hard  fight  to 
keep  awake.  With  legs  spread  wide  apart  and 
hands  grasping  firmly  the  arms  of  the  chair,  he 
seemed  even  yet  to  bid  defiance  to  the  slum- 
berous tendency,  save  that  his  head,  slightly 
tipped  backward,  rested  just  at  its  base  against 
the  edge  of  the  marble  counter  which  bounds 
the  clerk's  domain,  and  the  traitorous  trumpet 
of  his  nose  gave  evidence  of  his  unconditional 
surrender.  The  hands  of  the  clock  pointed  to  a 
quarter  of  five.  The  lights  were  low  and  few, 
and  the  spacious  office  was  in  uncertain  shad- 
ow. The  great  hostelry  seemed  almost  de- 
serted. 

The  storm-door  opened  and  closed  with  a 
dull  thud.  There  was  a  rustling  of  garments, 
a  scraping  of  feet  on  the  woven-wire  mat, 
and  the  great  inner  door  swung  noiselessly 
back,  admitting  a  gust  of  cold  air  and  a  man 


8  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

wearing  a  long  overcoat,  cut  in  the  fashion  of 
a  private  soldier's,  but  of  a  dull  brown  color, 
and  a  worn  silk  hat,  the  brim  of  which  was  full 
of  particles  of  snow.  The  automatic  portal 
closed  slowly  after  him  with  its  accustomed 
pneumatic  sigh.  The  new-comer  paused  as  if 
to  recover  breath  after  his  struggle  with  the 
storm  without ;  rubbed  his  hands  together 
briskly  for  a  moment,  hanging  the  crook  of  a 
heavy  cane  over  his  arm  in  order  to  do  so,  un- 
did the  mufflings  about  his  neck  and  walked 
slowly  toward  the  desk.  A  pair  of  spectacles, 
with  very  large  glasses  and  heavy  bows,  was 
all  that  relieved  a  face  of  singularly  uniform 
darkness.  He  appeared  to  take  in  the  situa- 
tion at  a  glance,  and  smiled  to  think  that  those 
whom  so  many  trusted  to  guard  their  slumbers 
were  themselves  asleep.  He  was  evidently  on 
familiar  ground.  Advancing  cautiously,  with 
a  curious  shuffling  gait,  he  touched  the  slum- 
bering watchman's  shoulder  and  said  in  a  low 
whisper: 

"Isn't  it  time  you  called  the  girls,  Mike!  " 
"  Troth,  it's  right  ye  are,"  answered  the 
watchman  in  the  same  guarded  tone,  springing 
to  his  feet  as  he  spoke,  "  an'  it's  a  thrate  I'm 
owin'  ye,  Misther  Prime,  fer  savin'  me  a  dollar 
an'  beloike  a  ratin'  too,  if  the  clerk  had  caught 
me  nappin'.  Lucky  I'm  in  toime  to  make  up 


A  CROWDED  INN.  9 

the  riccord,  too — it's  not  foive  yet,  an'  it's 
always  four  till  it's  foive,  ye  know." 

He  went  inside  the  circular  inclosure  and 
touched  the  spring  of  the  time-clock,  the  punc- 
tured dial  of  which  was  the  guaranty  that 
some  time  within  the  hour  he  had  been  awake, 
and  then  stole  off  on  tiptoe  to  perform  his 
duty  of  waking  the  other  servants.  The  little 
stir  thus  caused  roused  the  clerk,  whose 
slumber,  accustomed  to  interruptions,  was  of 
the  lightest. 

"Mike!"  he  called,  sleepily.  The  new- 
comer waited  until  the  watchman  had  disap- 
peared down  the  dim-lighted  hall,  and  then 
answered  : 

"  Mike  is  not  here,  Mr.  Carson  :  it's  likely 
he  has  gone  to  call  the  scrubbers." 

"Is  it  as  late  as  that,  Prime?"  exclaimed 
the  clerk,  throwing  off  his  drowsiness,  sitting 
up  in  his  chair  and  taking  his  feet  off  the 
other.  "  I  must  have  overslept  myself,  and  I 
guess  Mike  has  been  asleep,  too  ! " 

"  I  am  a  little  early,"  was  the  evasive  answer, 
as  the  other  shuffled  along  until  he  stood  be- 
fore the  sleepy  clerk.  "  Mike  has  probably 
been  looking  after  the  fires  ;  it's  mighty  com- 
fortable here." 

He  pressed  his  hands  upon  the  heater  and 
coughed  and  shivered  as  he  spoke. 


io  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  And.  pretty  rough  outside,  I  reckon,"  com- 
mented the  clerk,  glancing  at  the  other's  hat. 

"Cold  and  blowing,"  replied  Prime,  taking 
off  his  hat  and  shaking  the  round,  hard  pellets 
out  on  the  stone  floor.  "  Everything's  a-flying, 
and  the  sleet  stings  like  shot." 

The  man  rubbed  his  face  as  he  spoke  as  if  to 
remove  the  sensations  he  described. 

"  A  bad  day  for  Christmas,"  said  the  clerk. 
"By  the  way,  'Merry  Christmas!'  to  you, 
Prime." 

"Thank  ye;  sir,"  said  the  other,  bowing  con- 
strainedly. "  I  hope  you'll  have  a  pleasant 
time." 

"  Of  course  I  shall,"  was  the  hearty  answer. 
"  Don't  you  expect  the  same  ?  " 

"  Christmas  is  jes'  ez  good  as  any  other  day 
ter  me,  Mr.  Ca'son,"  said  the  other  carelessly, 
with  a  touch  of  the  negro  dialect,  not  before 
noticeable  in  his  speech. 

"As  good  as  any  other  day!  Oh,  I  say, 
Prime,  a  fellow  isn't  half-white  unless  he  has 
a  better  time  Christmas  than  any  other  day  in 
the  year."  The  clerk  stretched  and  yawned, 
rubbing  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and  bending 
his  slender  body  backward  with  the  healthy 
abandon  of  half-awakened  youth  as  he  .spoke. 

"  Perhaps  that's  the  reason  I  don't  expect  it," 
said  the  other  grimly.  He  wore  a  black  knitted 


A   CROWDED  INN.  1 1 

cap  underneath  his  hat,  covering  his  forehead 
almost  to  the  brims  of  his  glasses.  Not  so 
much  as  the  white  of  an  eye  was  visible  as  he 
turned  a  sharp,  hard  face  toward  the  young 
man. 

"  Don't  be  so  touchy,  Prime  ;  I  didn't  mean 
that,  of  course,"  said  the  clerk  apologetically. 
"  Though  a  nigger  gets  his  share  of  Christmas 
all  the  same.  '  No  distinction  of  race,  color  or 
previous  condition '  about  that  institution. 
The  only  trouble  is  that  he  isn't  satisfied  with 
one  day  ;  he  wants  a  week  of  Christmases  at  a 
stretch.  Eh,  Prime?"  He  laughed  lightly  at 
his  own  jest  as  he  stepped  across  to  wake  the 
sleeping  hall-boy. 

"  If  he  had  a  year  at  a  time  he  wouldn't  any 
more'n  catch  up,  would  he  ?  "  asked  Prime  in  a 
tone  that  seemed  to  stop  just  short  of  a  sneer. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know ;  I  guess  the  nigger's 
always  had  his  share  of  whatever  good  times 
there  were  going." 

"  Oh,  of  course,  he's  had  his  sheer" — said  the 
other,  with  a  thin,  derisive  laugh — "  his  sheer! 
That's  certainly  good,  Mr.  Ca'son  !  His  sheer! " 

Again  the  negro  dialect  betrayed  itself  more 
strongly  than  before,  seeming  strangely  incon- 
gruous with  the  low,  even  tone  and  now  un- 
mistakable sneer,  while  a  row  of  white  teeth 
showed  between  the  dark  lips  with  almost 


12  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

startling  ghastliness,  as  he  continued,  almost 
hissing  out  the  words  : 

"  There's  one  little  difficulty  'bout  it.  Who 
decided  what  was  his  sheer?  Who  measured 
it  out  to  him  ?  How  did  it  come  to  be  his 
sheer?  How  did  he  git  it?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  tell,"  laughed  the  clerk,  "  stole 
it  most  likely.  That's  the  way  a  nigger  usually 
gets  what  he's  too  lazy  to  work  for.  Come,  be 
lively  there  !  "  he  added,  turning  to  the  scrub- 
bing-women  who  had  just  entered  at  the  other 
side  of  the  room  with  buckets  and  brushes. 
"Be  lively!  You're  a  half-hour  late  and 
people  are  bound  to  be  stirring  early  to-day. 
Turn  on  the  lights  there,  Mike,  and  move  the 
chairs  out  of  the  way  !  " 

He  spoke  good-naturedly,  and  hummed  a 
Christmas  hymn  as  he  turned  to  his  desk  while 
the  row  of  wrinkled  women  with  dresses  pinned 
up  at  the  sides,  showing  coarse,  dirty  petti- 
coats and  heavy  shoes,  fell  upon  their  knees 
and  began  to  scrub  and  wipe  the  alternate 
black  and  white  squares  of  the  polished  stone 
floor.  They  backed  away  from  their  work  as  it 
progressed,  with  a  queer,  sidling  motion  neces- 
sary to  prevent  their  nether  limbs  from  slipping 
beyond  the  sheltering  skirts. 

Prime  still  stood  by  the  heater  warming 
himself.  The  clerk  sauntered  back  and  stood 


A  CROWDED  INN.  *3 

beside  it  also,  his  hands  clasped  behind  him 
while  he  watched  the  line  of  women  slowly  mov- 
ing across  the  floor  on  their  hands  and  knees. 

"  They  are  white !  "  he  said  significantly. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  other  absently. 

"  Not  much  better  off  than  niggers,  are 
they  ?  " 

"  Didn't  the  daughter  of  one  of  your  scrub- 
bers marry  a  Senators  son  r  " 

"Why,  yes,"  dubiously. 

"  She  was  white,  you  see — nearly  as  white 
as — as  my  boy — Ben  !  Now  if  she  had  been 
his  sister  that  would  have  been  wicked,  you 
know — positively  wicked,  Mr.  Ca'son  !  " 

"  Pshaw  !  you  must  have  got  out  of  bed 
wrong  foot  first  this  morning,  Prime,"  said  the 
clerk  heartily,  laying  his  hand  on  the  other's 
shoulder,  "this  isn't  the  time  to  be  grouty  and 
ill-tempered.  This  is  Christmas  Day,  old 
man ! " 

"  The  birthday  of  the  white  Christ !  "  sneered 
Prime. 

"  The  what  ?  "  asked  the  ather  curiously. 

"  The  white  Christ — the  white  man's  Sav- 
iour? " 

"  Now,  Prime,  I'm  not  much  on  religion,  as 
you  know,  but  I  vow  that's  too  bad !  You're 
morbid,  man  !  Get  something  for  your  liver  as 
soon  as  the  bar  is  open,  and  tell  Hank  to  mark 


14  PACTOL US  PRIME. 

it  down  to  me.  The  White  Christ !  What 
are  you  thinking  of?  White?  Not  much,  I 
should  say  !  Why,  man,  wasn't  the  Saviour 
born  in  a  stable  and  cradled  in  a  manger? 
Don't  you  remember  the  old  carol  we  used 
to  sing?  How  was  it?"  The  clerk  hummed 
the  air  as  if  to  aid  his  recollection.  "You 
ought  to  know  it,  Prime?  I'll  lay  a  hundred 
to  one  you've  sung  it  many  a  Christmas  in  old 
Virginia?" 

"Neither  in  old  or  new  Virginny,  Mr.  Ca'- 
son,"  said  the  dusky  listener  with  his  quiet 
sneer.  "I  may  have  believed  a  nigger  had 
some  sheer  in  Christmas  when  he  was  a  slave, 
but  since  he  has  been  free — wal,  let  them  sing 
Christmas  hymns  that  choose  :  my  voice  is  too 
badly  cracked." 

His  chuckling  laugh  was  drowned  in  the 
cough  that  followed. 

"  Oh,  bother  your  nonsense  !  You  know 
what  I  mean,"  said  the  clerk.  "  How  did  it 
go?  I  don't  wonder  it  makes  you  cough. 
It's  a  bit  of  slashing,  open-handed,  free-grace 
and  salvation-for-all  doctrine  that  ought  to 
make  such  a  snarling  old  ne'er-content  as  you 
sick  for  life.  Oh,  I  remember : 

"  Cold  on  His  cradle  the  dewdrops  are  shining, 

Low  lies  His  head  with  the  beasts  of  the  stall ; 
Angels  adore  Him  in  slumber  reclining, 
Maker  and  Monarch  and  Saviour  of  all." 


A   CROWDED  INN.  15 

The  young  man  sang  in  a  full  baritone  which 
rolled  melodiously  through  the  half-lighted 
room  and  dim  branching  corridors.  The 
women  looked  up  and  turned  to  each  other 
with  a  pleasant  word  of  greeting. 

"  Sure,  but  I'd  forgot  it  was  Christmas 
Day  !  "  said  Mike,  crossing  himself  and  mut- 
tering a  hurried  prayer. 

One  of  the  women  turned  partially  away 
from  the  others,  straightened  up  on  her  knees, 
and  letting  her  brush  fall,  whispered  a  prayer 
also.  Over  the  others  there  seemed  to  steal  a 
tender  feeling,  but  they  did  not  intermit  their 
labors.  Some  moved  their  lips,  and  one  or 
two  made  the  sign  of  the  cross. 

"  Now  what  have  you  got  to  say  to  that, 
you  sneering  old  stick-in-the-mud  ?"  asked  the 
clerk  good-humoredly. 

"  I  suppose  I  should  feet  the  same  way 
about  it,"  said  Prime  wistfully,  "  if — if  I  was  a 
white  man  !  " 

He  picked  up  his  hat  which  had  dropped 
on  the  stone  pavement,  and  putting  his  left 
hand  in  the  pocket  of  his  great-coat  and  lean- 
ing on  his  cane  started  with  his  curious  dragg- 
ing gait  along  the  wide  hall.  The  clerk 
returned  to  his  desk  whistling  softly  the  air  he 
had  just  sung. 

"  By  the    way,    Prime,"    he    called    to  the 


1 6  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

figure  disappearing  down  the  corridor,  "  I  have 
a  package  here  for  you." 

"For  me,  Mr.  Ca'son?"  asked  the  old  man 
in  some  surprise,  shuffling  back  to  the  desk. 

"Yes,  sir!  for  you!  Santa  Claus  hasn't 
forgotten  you,  even  if  you  do  talk  so  mean 
about  the  day  we  dedicate  to  him.  Ah,  here 
it  is,"  dragging  out  a  large  oblong  box  carefully 
tied  up.  "'Pactolus  Prime';  that's  you,  I 
take  it  ?  " 

He  laid  the  package  on  the  counter  as  he 
spoke,  and  looked  quizzically  into  the  other's 
face. 

"  '  Pactolus  Prime,  Esquire,'  "  said  the  old 
man,  slowly  scanning  the  address  and  laying  a 
scornful  stress  upon  the  title.  "  That's  ce'tainly 
meant  for  me,  Mr.  Ca'son,  and  by  the  same 
token,  it  don't  take  much  guessin'  to  tell  who 
the  fool  is  that  sent  it." 

His  countenance  relaxed,  however,  as  he 
spoke,  and  his  tone  grew  softer  despite  the 
harsh  words  he  uttered. 

"  Why,  of  course  not ;  it  was  Santa  Claus, 
you  old  unbeliever  !  "  was  the  laughing  reply. 

"  May  be  you're  right,  Mr.  Ca'son,"  said 
Prime  as  he  lifted  his  bundle  from  the  desk, 
and  relapsing  into  his  former  sarcastic  tone, 
he  repeated  :  "  May  be  you're  right.  I've  heard 
that  Santa  Claus  was  really  some  sort  of 


A  CROWDED  INN.  17 

heathen  god  just  made  over  to  suit  later 
notions.  He  might  not  be  troubled  at  my 
complexion — might  be  color-blind,  you  know  ; 
but  the  Christ,  Mr.  Ca'son,  your  white  Christ, 
don't  ever  make  such  mistakes.  He  may  make 
niggers  welcome  enough  in  Heaven,  if  any  of 
'em  are  allowed  to  git  thar,  but  he  ce'tainly 
hasn't  any  use  for  'em  on  earth.  His  followers 
have  a  heap  to  say  about '  jestice  and  mercy  ' — 
always  puttin'  the  jestice  first ;  but  when  it 
comes  to  dealin'  with  a  nigger,  they  leave  the 
jestice  out  entirely  and  expect  him  to  be 
mighty  grateful  for  his  sheer  of  what's  left! 
His  sheer  of  the  mercy,  you  know  !  " 

There  was  an  angry  flash  under  his  spec- 
tacles as  the  lame  man  turned  away. 

"  What  an  incorrigible  old  sinner  !  "  said  the 
clerk  to  himself,  as  he  watched  the  retreating 
figure.  "  With  all  his  queer  notions,  though, 
God  hasn't  made  many  whiter  men  than  that 
same  Prime — according  to  my  idea,  that  is,  and 
just  for  common,  every-day  use,"  he  added,  as 
if  apologizing  to  himself  for  the  extravagance 
of  his  first  assertion. 

A  bell  tinkled,  and  a  white  disk  upon  the 
indicator  dropped  out  of  its  place,  revealing 
a  numeral  beneath. 

"  Front !  "  exclaimed  the  clerk,  dropping  his 
hand  instinctively  upon  the  call-bell.  "  Answer 


1 8  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

two-forty-five  !  "  he  said  sharply  to  the  sleepy 
boy  as  he  touched  a  button  and  restored 
the  disk  to  its  place.  Hardly  had  he  done  so, 
when  the  bell  sounded  again  and  another  disk 
fell  out  of  place,  and  almost  before  he  had 
time  to  note  the  number,  another  and  an- 
other. 

"  Now  comes  the  rush,"  he  muttered.  "  Call 
the  other  boys,  Mike  !  Lively  now !  Every 
man,  woman  and  child,  or  child,  woman  and 
man  rather,  in  the  whole  blessed  house  will 
ring  from  one  to  forty  times  during  the  next 
two  hours  to  inquire  for  Christmas  gifts. 
That's  the  sort  of  Christmas  a  hotel  clerk  gets  ! 
I'd  about  as  lief  be  a  nigger  !  " 

He  pulled  a  lever  under  the  counter,  and  a 
bell  clanged  harshly  in  some  remote  region  of 
the  great  building.  A  moment  after  a  porter 
answered,  and  the  bell-boys  came  dragging 
sleepily  in  one  after  another. 

"  Make  the  five-thirty  calls  !  "  said  the  clerk 
to  the  porter,  handing  him  a  list.  "  Look  alive 
now,  and  make  no  mistakes !  " 

"  T-r-r-ring!  T-r-r-ring  !  "  went  the  electric 
bells.  Disk  after  disk  fell  on  the  indicator. 

"  Front !  One-sixty-three !  Front !  Four- 
forty-eight  !  " 

The  boys  hurried  off  one  after  another,  and 
Christmas  had  begun  in  the  great  hotel.  Prime 


A   CROWDED  INN.  19 

crept  along  the  corridor  and  disappeared  down 
a  passage  to  the  left,  up  which  came  a  faint 
glimmer  of  light  and  the  sound  of  running 
water. 


III. 

A   PROFESSOR   OF   THE   BLACK   ART. 


PRIME  was  the  bootblack  of 
Ithe  "Best  House."  Most  of  the  hotels  in 
the  national  metropolis  are  "houses  "  of  some 
sort.  The  style  serves  to  mark  the  evolution 
of  the  hostel.  The  inn  or  tavern  became  first 
a  "  hotel,"  then  a  "  house,"  and  finally  has 
dropped  all  descriptive  modifiers,  and  bullies 
the  traveler  with  the  puzzling  uncertainty  of  a 
name  alone.  Our  grandfathers  found  "  enter- 
tainment for  man  and  beast  "  at  the  "  Wayside 
Inn  "  ;  our  fathers  at  the  "Grand  Hotel,"  while 
the  aspiration  of  our  own  younger  days  was 
to  put  up  in  style  at  the  new  "  Monument 
House,"  and  we  now  instruct  the  cabman,  with 
a  bit  of  cockney  flavor  in  our  tone,  to  drive  us 
to  "  The  Brunswick."  The  one  thing  to  be 
thankful  for  about  Washington  caravanseries 
is  that  they  have  not  yet  ceased  to  be  "  houses." 
It  sounds  provincial,  but  it  implies  comfort 
and  a  certain  amount  of  liberty.  The  guest  of 
the  hotel  which  sports  a  single  name,  as  if  it 
were  the  one  distinctive  thing  so-named  on 


A  PROFESSOR  OF  THE  BLACK  ART.          21 

earth,  is  apt  to  be  a  prisoner  who  submits  to 
being  bullied  at  extortionate  rates  for  the 
honor  of  inditing  his  letters  on  its  specially 
embossed  paper. 

The  Best  House  needs  no  description. 
Everybody  knows  its  character  and  location. 
It  fronts  on  two  streets  and  one  avenue  ;  is  ac- 
cessible from  each  ;  has  the  most  unpretentious 
of  entrances  ;  innumerable  tiled  corridors  ;  a 
spacious  office ;  a  magnificent  dining-room ; 
a  bar  notable  alike  for  its  ornamentation,  its 
service,  and  the  quality  of  its  decoctions ; 
smoking-rooms,  billiard-rooms,  writing-rooms, 
and  half  a  thousand  sleeping-rooms.  Where 
the  army  of  servants  work  or  lodge  or  what  is 
the  number  of  them,  none  knoweth  save  he 
who  bears  the  imperial  title  of  "  Manager." 
Him  the  guests  seldom  see,  but  his  authority  is 
represented  and  his  dignity  suffers  no  diminu- 
tion in  the  person  of  the  "  Clerk,"  who  in  the 
category  of  the  modern  hotel  officials  ought 
more  properly  to  bear  the  title  of  "  Lord  of 
the  Bed-chamber,"  he  having  the  care,  and 
being  responsible  for  the  safety  and  comfort, 
of  the  guest,  asleep  or  awake. 

The  bootblack's  stand  was  in  the  basement, 
adjoining  the  public  wash-room.  The  "  stand  " 
consisted  of  four  chairs  placed  upon  a  dais 
raised  a  couple  of  steps  above  the  level  of 


2  2  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

the  floor.  There  was  a  pivoted  iron  foot-rest 
in  front  of  each  of  these,  and  behind  them 
a  window,  the  lower  sash  of  ground  glass,  the 
upper  one  showing  a  whitewashed  area  wall 
with  its  railed  enclosure  above.  Through  this 
railing  one  had  a  glimpse  of  the  street  and 
sidewalk.  The  pavement  sloped  backward 
from  the  front  of  the  house,  pretty  sharply, 
on  the  side-street.  At  the  upper  edge  of  the 
window  one  barely  saw  the  knee  of  the  passer- 
by; at  the  lower,  the  vision  extended  almost  to 
the  middle.  Only  the  faces  of  dwarfs  and  chil- 
dren were  ever  visible.  Pactolus  Prime  loved 
to  watch  this  queer  procession  of  toe  and  heel  in 
the  intervals  of  his  work.  His  calling — it  was 
something  more  than  avocation  to  him — had 
made  him  observant  of  feet,  and  especially  of 
foot-gear.  He  noticed  the  shape,  the  make  of 
the  shoe,  the  play  of  the  instep,  the  swing  of 
the  leg,  and  the  turn  of  the  ankle  with  discrim- 
inating knowledge.  He  probably  knew  more 
men  and  women  by  their  feet — or  rather  by 
their  shoes — than  any  other  man  in  the  coun- 
try ;  more  indeed  than  most  men  know  by 
memory  of  faces.  Most  of  the  accustomed 
passers-by  and  all  the  regular  patrons  of  his 
stand  he  knew  by  name.  Many  a  man  would 
have  gone  another  way  had  he  known  that  ob- 
servant eyes  rested  on  his  boots  as  he  strode 


A  PROFESSOR  OF  THE  BLACK  ART.          23 

by  Prime's  window,  and  many  a  lady  would 
have  blushed  had  she  known  that  her  feet 
were  recognized  by  one  who  had  never  seen 
her  face. 

Pactolus  Prime  had  occupied  this  "  stand  " 
twelve  years.  Every  guest  of  the  great  hotel 
knew  him,  and  many  more,  for  he  had  blacked 
boots  somewhere  in  the  city,  years  before  he 
became  a  feature  of  the  Best  House — just  how 
many  nobody  seemed  to  know,  and  he  was 
little  inclined  to  talk  about  himself.  Indeed, 
beyond  the  fact  that  he  was  not  only  the  boot- 
black of  the  Best  House,  but  the  best  boot- 
black in  any  house — North  or  South,  or  East 
or  West,  and  so  conceded  to  be  by  the  travel- 
ing public  whom  he  served — very  little  was 
known  of  him  or  his  life.  He  rented  his  stand, 
hired  his  own  assistant,  boarded  himself,  lived 
somewhere  in  the  suburbs,  was  always  at  his 
post  by  daylight  and  usually  remained  until 
dark.  His  assistant  stayed  until  nine  or  ten 
at  night,  and  came  later  in  the  morning — there 
was  not  often  more  than  one  could  attend  to 
until  after  eight  o'clock.  Two  days  in  each 
week  Pactolus  Prime  himself  remained  until 
ten  and  his  assistant  left  at  noon.  One  or  two 
days  in  the  week  he  took  a  holiday,  and  in 
the  afternoon  was  usually  found  in  one  of 
the  galleries  at  the  Capitol,  listening  to  the 


24  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

debates.  Here  he  always  occupied  the  same 
seat  unless  it  chanced  to  be  filled  on  his  arrival, 
and  then  sat  in  the  one  nearest  to  it  which  he 
found  vacant.  Nearly  everybody  in  Washing- 
ton knew  him  by  sight,  and  many  members  of 
Congress  and  high  officials  of  the  government, 
by  name. 

He  was  not  a  man  of  many  words,  but  his 
deeds  were  unexceptionable.  No  boot  ever 
left  his  hands  until  its  luster  was  perfect, 
and  no  customer  departed  from  his  stand  with 
any  removable  dust  upon  his  clothing.  Some- 
times he  talked  with  his  customers,  but  never 
about  them.  If  he  heard  what  they  said  of 
each  other,  he  never  repeated  it.  He  never 
answered  inquiries  about  them,  either.  No 
matter  how  recently  he  had  tapped  a  gentle- 
man's foot  to  show  that  his  work  was  done,  he 
could  never  be  made  to  remember  when  he  had 
last  seen  him.  He  baffled  all  questions  by  an 
unhesitating  denial  of  recollection  ;  his  assist- 
ant by  the  denial  of  knowledge.  No  detective 
had  ever  learned  anything  from  him  to  a 
patron's  disadvantage,  and  no  assistant  of  his 
had  ever  been  called  to  testify  as  to  the  where- 
abouts of  a  customer  at  a  particular  hour. 

But  if  he  said  little,  he  well  knew  how  to 
make  others  talk,  and  was  considered  a  very 
superior  man  for  one  in  his  station,  by  those 


A  PROFESSOR  OF  THE  BLACK  ART.          25 

who  loved  the  sound  of  their  own  voices.  So, 
too,  though  he  would  not  gossip,  he  was  always 
eager  to  listen  to  the  discussion  of  public 
affairs,  and  never  hesitated  to  express  an 
opinion  thereon.  He  was  not  exactly  a  poli- 
tician, but  had  his  own  ideas,  was  considered 
a  close  observer,  and  not  seldom  proved  him- 
self a  sound  adviser.  Statesmen  were  not 
ashamed  to  consider  his  warnings,  and  more 
than  once  sporting  men  had  risked  their  money 
on  his  political  predictions  with  noticeable 
advantage.  He  knew  the  "  blue-book "  by 
heart,  and  needed  no  mark  of  rank  to  enable 
him  to  give  any  accustomed  patron  his  proper 
title.  He  was  familiar  with  the  status  of  most 
of  those  upon  the  civil  list,  and  the  aspirations 
of  many  who  desired  to  get  there.  Perhaps  a 
majority  of  the  guests  of  the  great  hotel,  at 
one  time  or  another,  confided  to  him  some- 
thing of  their  hopes  or  fears  ;  and  not  a  few 
condescended  to  ask  his  advice — some  of  them 
his  aid.  He  paid  more  for  his  stand  than  many 
of  the  clerks  in  the  Departments  receive  as 
salary,  yet  the  proprietor  leased  to  him  at  a 
lower  figure  than  he  would  to  another,  because 
of  the  prudence  which  made  him  popular  with 
the  guests. 

Nobody  knew  whether  his  profits  were  great 
or  small,  unless  it  was  his  assistant.     He  never 


26  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

boasted  of  good  fortune  nor  bewailed  bad  luck. 
Some  thought  he  must  have  grown  rich,  others 
wondered  how  he  could  live  and  pay  the  rent 
he  did.  It  was  whispered  among  the  guests 
that  he  was  a  good  man  to  apply  to  in  an 
emergency.  The  clerk,  after  a  peculiarly  pite- 
ous appeal  from  an  unfortunate  player  or  un- 
expectedly embarrassed  wayfarer,  sometimes 
dropped  a  hint  that  Prime  might  help  him  out 
of  his  trouble.  He  often  raised  small  sums, 
sometimes  very  considerable  ones,  to  accommo- 
date people  in  such  unpleasant  predicament. 
He  always  acted  cautiously,  yet  he  had  been 
known  to  obtain  money  on  all  sorts  of  pledges, 
watches,  diamonds — -even  horses  and  patents 
which  were  not  regarded  as  absolutely  good 
security  for  the  sums  advanced.  If  these 
ventures  ever  resulted  in  loss  no  one  knew  it, 
neither  the  profit,  if  any  there  were.  Some 
thought  he  ventured  his  own  money,  some 
that  he  was  another's  agent.  There  was  a 
general  belief  that  he  was  very  fortunate  in 
these  ventures,  and  among  gamblers  there  was 
a  superstition  that  it  brought  good  luck  to 
borrow  of  him.  It  was  noticeable  that  he  could 
never  be  induced  to  serve  one  whom  he  had 
once  refused. 

This  was  about  all   the  clerk,  proprietor,  or 
any  employ^  of  the  "  Best  House"  could  have 


A  PROFESSOR  OF  THE  BLACK  ART.          27 

told  about  Pactolus  Prime,  for  though  he  was 
a  man  of  mark  in  his  way,  he  lived  his  own  life 
and  seemed  to  have  neither  family  nor  intimates. 
Those  whom  he  served  usually  spoke  of  him 
as  "  Prime  ";  some  called  him  "  Uncle  Prime," 
or  simply  "  Uncle  ";  one  or  two  addressed  him 
as  "  Pactolus  ";  while  to  the  servants  at  the 
hotel  and  his  assistant,  he  was  always  "Mistah" 
Prime.  Though  respected  by  all,  he  was  very 
far  from  being  popular  with  the  colored  ele- 
ment of  the  city's  population.  Indeed,  he 
seemed  to  be  shunned  rather  than  sought  by 
his  own  people,  except  in  emergencies  when 
the  interests  of  the  race  were  clearly  at  stake. 
His  appearance  was  very  striking, — full  of 
incongruities  that  attracted  attention  yet 
were  hard  to  define.  At  first  sight  and  at  a 
little  distance,  he  seemed  an  old  man ;  on 
closer  inspection  one  detected  neither  wrinkles 
nor  muscular  deterioration.  In  his  prime  he 
must  have  been  above  the  medium  height, 
slenderly  rather  than  strongly  built.  He  was 
stoop-shouldered,  but  his  chest  did  not  lack 
depth.  His  arms  were  long  and  his  hands 
narrow,  with  white,  hard  nails  that  somehow 
seemed  out  of  place  upon  the  fingers  of  one  in 
his  condition.  A  racial  expert — one  of  the  old 
slave-traders,  for  instance — would  have  found 
it  hard  to  reconcile  those  nails  with  the  color 


28  PACTOL  US  PRIME. 

of  the  hands,  according  to  the  thories  that  pre- 
vailed among  the  sagacious  dealers  in  human 
flesh  of  a  generation  ago.  The  sense  of  narrow- 
ness in  his  figure  was  perhaps  increased  by  the 
fact  that  his  right  leg  seemed  to  turn  inward 
at  the  knee,  or  rather  turned  outward  below 
the  knee,  until  the  foot  was  almost  at  a  right 
angle  with  its  fellow.  It  dragged  after  the 
other  in  walking,  and  was  used  as  a  sort  of 
fleshly  ratchet  to  hold  what  the  left  had  gained, 
instead  of  being  sent  forward  to  conquer  space 
on  its  own  account. 

But  the  countenance  of  the  bootblack  of  the 
"  Best  House  "  was  even  more  noticeable  than 
his  form.  A  narrow,  almost  pinched  face, 
growing  broad  across  the  eyes,  with  a  high 
forehead,  a  straight  nose  having  that  flexi- 
bility of  nostril  which  is  claimed  to  be  indica- 
tive of  the  Caucasian,  thin  lips,  and  a  peculiar 
leaden-gray  complexion  that  seemed  singu- 
larly pervasive  of  his  whole  being,  were  the 
things  which  first  attracted  the  attention  of  a 
stranger.  Closer  observation  showed  that  the 
same  blue-gray  tint  seemed  to  be  even  intensi- 
fied upon  the  lips,  which  lacked  all  trace  of  red- 
ness, so  that  the  rows  of  short,  even  teeth 
showed  with  startling  whiteness  between 
them.  After  a  time,  one  became  conscious,  as 
he  studied  the  physiognomy,  that  a  part  of  its 


A  PROFESSOR  OF  THE  BLACK  ART.          29 

strange  effect  was  due  to  the  entire  absence  of 
hair.  His  head  was  bald — not  partially,  but 
absolutely.  The  black  knitted  cap  he  wore 
could  not  conceal  that  fact.  There  was  no 
trace  of  beard,  and  even  the  great,  round,  sil- 
ver-mounted spectacles  could  not  hide  the 
absence  of  eyebrows  on  the  somewhat  promi- 
nent forehead.  These  glasses  effectually  con- 
cealed his  eyes,  except  when  the  light  was 
good,  as  it  seldom  was  in  the  wash-room  of  the 
great  hotel. 

Such,  as  near  as  words  can  picture  him,  was 
the  man  who  came  down  the  stairs,  turned  up 
the  lights  in  the  wash-room,  and  began  to  undo 
the  package  he  had  received  from  the  clerk. 
When  he  had  taken  off  the  cover  of  the  box  and 
undid  a  light  paper  wrapping,  he  took  out  an 
overcoat  made  of  rich  material,  with  a  fur 
lining  and  furred  sleeves. 

"  That's  a  nice  coat,"  he  said,  after  examining 
it  carefully,  "  and  it  was  kind  in  Ben  to  get  it 
for  me.  He  ought  not  to  have  done  it,  though  ; 
he  don't  get  wages  enough  not  to  have  plenty 
of  use  for  his  money  without  buying  such  a 
present  as  that  for  me.  I  had  about  made  up 
my  mind  to  offer  him  a  better  chance,  and 
this  opens  the  way  to  do  it." 

There  was  hardly  a  trace,  in  this  monologue, 
of  the  negro  dialect  which  had  been  noticeable 


3°  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

• 

in  his  conversation  a  little  while  before,  but 
on  the  contrary  a  smoothness  and  accuracy  of 
enunciation  which  showed  that  the  bootblack 
of  the  "Best  House"  had  not  associated  with 
the  brainiest  men  of  the  nation  without  learn- 
ing the  refinements  of  speech  that  prevail 
among  them.  He  took  out  a  card  which  he 
found  in  one  of  the  pockets  of  the  coat  and 
read : 

"For  PACTOLUS  PRIME,  ESQ. 

CHRISTMAS  GIFT." 

"What  does  he  want  to  tag  the  '  Esquire 'to 
it  for?  The  idea  of  calling  a  man  of  my  com- 
plexion '  Esquire  ! '  No  one  but  a  nigger 
would  think  of  doing  so.  It  doesn't  mean 
anything  among  white  men,  but  no  white  man 
would  ever  use  it  in  addressing  a  nigger.  If  it 
does  not  mean  rank.it  at  least  means  equality. 
'  Christmas  Gift,'  too  !  Well,  I'm  glad  he's  a 
nigger.  I  should  hate  to  get  a  present  that 
really  meant  consideration  from  a  white  man. 
There's  no  danger,  though,"  he  added  with  a 
quiet  laugh.  "  I  suppose  I'll  get  the  worth  of 
that  coat  in  extra  fees  to-day,  but  it  will  all 
be  flung  to  me  like  a  biscuit  to  a  dog  after  a 
good  day's  sport.  That's  a  white  man's  notion 
of  kindness  to  a  nigger." 

The  white  teeth,  showing  between  the  drawn 
blue  lips,  made  the  man's  sneer  horribly  sar- 


A  PROFESSOR  OF  THE  BLACK  ART.         31 

donic.  He  threw  the  coat  on  one  of  the 
chairs,  took  out  a  bunch  of  keys,  opened  a 
drawer  in  the  dais,  and  spread  out  on  the  plat- 
form the  instruments  of  his  vocation — a  half 
dozen  brushes,  a  sponge,  a  scraper,  and  a  bunch 
of  cotton  waste.  Then  he  lifted  out  a  flat 
marble  slab,  took  it  over  to  one  of  the  wash- 
stands,  sponged  it  off,  and  bringing  it  back 
wiped  it  dry  with  the  shreds.  After  that  he 
put  on  it  a  small  quantity  of  blacking  with  a 
spatula,  moistened  it  with  liquids  from  two  or 
three  different  bottles — ejecting  them  with  a 
quick  jerk  through  quills  set  in  the  corks — 
worked  it  evenly  and  carefully  with  the  spatu- 
la, testing  its  consistency  now  and  then  until 
he  seemed  satisfied  with  the  result. 

"  Queer,  nobody  ever  found  out  the  secret  of 
this  mixture,"  he  said,  as  he  watched  it  drip 
from  the  edge  of  the  spatula.  "  Ben  mixes  it 
almost  as  well  as  I  do,  but  I  don't  think  he  has 
any  idea  what  it's  made  of.  I've  made  a  good 
thing  by  it  and  there's  a  fortune  in  it  yet. 
Everybody  thinks  the  excellence  and  dura- 
bility of  our  "  shines  "  depend  upon  the  way 
the  work  is  done — and  there's  a  good  deal  in 
that,  too — but  all  the  pains  in  the  world 
wouldn't  do  it  with  any  other  blacking  ever  in- 
vented. I've  thought  sometimes  I'd  patent  it, 
but  if  I  did  I'd  have  to  reveal  the  secret.  I'm 


3^  PACTOLVS  PRIME. 

going  out  of  business  pretty  soon,  but  I'll  give 
it  to  Ben  ;  and  he — well,  maybe  he'll  find  as  good 
a  man  to  give  it  to  when  he  comes  to  retire. 
To  retire  !  Think  of  it !  A  bootblack  retir- 
ing— as  if  he  was  a  banker!  A  nigger  boot- 
black, too  ! " 

The  man  laughed  at  his  strange  conceit, 
looked  at  his  watch,  then  at  the  window  where 
the  day  was  beginning  to  show,  and  turned  his 
attention  to  preparing  another  portion  of  the 
liquid  whose  virtues  he  had  commemorated  for 
the  use  of  his  assistant. 


IV. 

MASTER    AND   DISCIPLE. 

"  T  HOPE  Benny  won't  forget  it's  Christmas," 
1  said  Prime,  when  he  had  put  everything 
in  order  for  the  day's  labor.  "  They'll  be  a 
little  slow  at  the  start,  but  when  they  begin 
to  come,  there'll  be  a  jam — everybody  in  a 
hurry  and  each  one  wanting  to  be  served  first. 
It's  queer  how  much  more  leisure  people  have 
on  work-days  than  on  holidays.  The  rush  may 
not  begin  for  an  hour — probably  won't,  but 
I  wish  Benny  would  come  for  all  that.  It's 
always  better  to  wait  for  the  crowd  than  ex- 
pect a  crowd  to  wait  for  you." 

Hardly  had  he  uttered  these  words  when  a 
smartly  dressed  young  man,  with  blue  eyes, 
dark  curling  hair,  and  trim,  erect  figure,  came 
running  down  the  stairs. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Prime,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  Christmas  Gift,  sir.  Were  you  afraid  I'd  be 
late  ?  I  meant  to  have  told  you  I'd  be  on  time. 
Take  a  seat,  sir,  and  let  me  give  you  a  shine 
before  the  rush  begins.  Plenty  of  time,  sir," 
he  added,  as  Prime  hesitated. 
33 


34  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

The  young  man  bustled  about,  taking  off  his 
gloves  and  removing  his  coat  and  cuffs  as  he 
spoke.  He  was  Prime's  assistant,  whom  he 
had  called  a  "  nigger,"  though  it  was  difficult 
to  find  any  trace  of  African  lineage  in  form  or 
feature.  His  manner  to  his  employer  was  dis- 
tinctly deferential,  though  he  rattled  on  with  the 
self-consciousness  which  betrays  its  purpose. 

"  How  are  you  feeling  this  morning,  sir  ? 
Must  have  been  pretty  cold  getting  in  so  early. 
You  ought  to  have  a  better  overcoat  than  the 
old  one  you  have  worn  so  long.  I  declare  it's  a 
disgrace  to  the  shop.  Hello?  What's  this?" 
he  asked  in  pretended  surprise,  taking  up  the 
Christmas  Gift  which  Prime  had  left  on  one 
of  the  chairs.  "  Oh,  I  see  Santa  Claus  has 
remembered  you  !  Just  the  thing  you  needed, 
too !  Well,  well,  Mr.  Prime,  you  are  in  luck 
as  usual." 

"Thar,  thar,  Benny,"  said  the  old  man,  laps- 
ing readily  into  the  dialect  he  sometimes  used, 
as  he  spoke'  to  his  assistant,  "  ye  needn't  go  on 
a-makin'  strange  o'  that  ar  coat.  Ye  know 
mighty  well  whar  it  come  from,  an'  I  'spect  it 
made  quite  a  hole  in  your  pocket-book,  too. 
I'm  sure  I'm  much  obleeged  to  ye.  'Twas  very 
thoughtful,  though  it's  much  too  good  for  my 
wear.  It  would  ruin  my  business  if  I  was  seen 
with  it  on — it  would,  really." 


MASTER  AND  DISCIPLE.  35 

The  last  words  were  hurried,  as  if  to  avoid 
the  cough  that  came  after  them. 

"  But  your  cough  has  been  very  bad  of  late," 
said  the  young  man  anxiously. 

"  It  has  been  mighty  troublesome,"  said  the 
old  man.  "Can't  imagine  how  I  got  such  a 
deep  cold.  Everybody  says  it's  workin*  down 
here  where  it's  hot  an'  damp,  but  this  is  just 
about  the  only  place  I'm  free  of  this  cough. 
You  know  I  hardly  ever  have  a  bad  spell  here." 

"  Don't  you  think  you  ought  to  favor  your- 
self more  ?"  asked  the  assistant. 

"  I'll  wear  your  coat,  if  that's  what  you 
mean,"  answered  the  old  man  with  a  smile  on 
his  thin  lips. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  ought  to  ride  back 
and  forth? 

"  La,  Benny,  I  aint  sick." 

"  You  haven't  eaten  your  lunch  in  ever  so 
long,"  asserted  Benny  dubiously. 

"  I  don't  have  much  appetite,  that's  a  fact. 
But  don't  you  be  troubled  ;  I'll  come  out  all 
right.  I've  been  sort  of  ailin'  for  a  little  while  ; 
lucky  it's  always  worst  when  there's  least  to 
do.  Perhaps  you're  right,  though  :  it's  most 
sure  to  come  on  after  an  hour  or  two  of  hard 
work  or  a  bit  of  walk  in  the  cold.  How  d'ye 
think  t'would  do  for  me  to  take  a  partner  ?" 
asked  the  old  man,  eyeing  the  younger  keenly, 


36  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

as   he   applied    the    blacking    to    one   of    his 
shoes. 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  give  up  business 
entirely  ?  "  asked  the  other.  "  I  don't  want  to 
pry  into  your  affairs,  Mr.  Prime,  but  everybody 
says  you  could  afford  it,  and  if  you  can,  it 
seems  to  me — it  really  does,  sir," — he  repeated 
deprecatingly.  He  did  not  finish  the  sentence. 

"Perhaps  I  could  and  perhaps  I  couldn't,' 
interrupted   Prime  sharply.     "  I   haven't    any 
notion  of  doing  it  just  now,  that's  certain  :  but 
I  am  goin'  to  take  a  partner." 

The  young  man  made  no  reply,  and  the  elder 
watched  him  narrowly,  as  he  worked  the  brushes 
back  and  forth  with  swift,  skillful  strokes. 

"  You  know  I  don't  give  Christmas  presents  ?  " 
he  said  querulously  after  a  while. 

"  I  have  heard  you  say  so,  sir." 

"  I  shan't  give  you  any." 

"  I  didn't  expect  it." 

"You  didn't?     Why?" 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should." 

"  Why  did  you  give  me  one,  then  ?  " 

"  To  show  my  respect,  sir." 

"  Oh  !  "  almost  sneeringly.  "  You  think  you 
are  able  to  make  such  presents,  I  suppose?" 

"  You  have  been  very  kind  to  me,  sir, — more 
like  a  father  than  an  employer.  Mother  always 
says  so.' 


MASTER  AND  DISCIPLE.  37 

"Does?  Judges  me  by  your  father,  prob- 
ably." 

The  young  man  flushed  even  to  his  neck  and 
ears  under  the  brutal  taunt. 

"She  meant  it  kindly,  sir,"  he  answered 
after  a  moment.  His  voice  trembled. 

"  Of  course,"  apologetically;  "  she  must  be  a 
good  woman." 

"  Indeed  she  is,"  said  the  young  man,  ac- 
cepting the  tacitly  proffered  reparation.  "  You 
ought  to  know  her." 

"  I  ?  "  exclaimed  the  elder  with  a  start,  "  I 
don't  need  to — I — I've  known  women  enough." 

The  young  man  did  not  answer,  but  having 
given  a  finishing  touch  to  the  boot  on  which 
he  had  been  working,  he  gave  it  the  smart  pro- 
fessional tap  which  indicates  that  the  operator 
has  completed  his  task  and  is  ready  for  the 
other. 

"You're  a  good  boy,  Benny,"  said  Prime  in 
a  softer  voice  when  the  other  boot  had  been 
adjusted  to  the  foot-rest. 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

"  You've  always  been  a  good  boy,  Ben,  an' 
I  want  to  see  you  do  well.  How  long  is  it 
you've  been  with  me  ?  " 

"  Five  years,  sir." 

"  Is  it,  now  ?  Well,  well,  how  time  does  fly  ! 
An'  you're — how  old?  " 


38  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  Past  twenty,  sir." 

"  So  ?  I  didn't  think  it.  Well,  you've  been 
a  good  boy — couldn't  hardly  have  done  better 
if  you'd  been  my  own  child." 

"  I've  often  wished  I  were,"  said  Ben 
earnestly. 

"  Were  what  ?  "  asked  the  old  man  sharply. 
"  My  child  !  Don't  ever  let  me  hear  any  such 
foolishness  again  !  Don't  ever  lisp  it !  Don't 
ever  dream  of  it !  Thank  God  you're  as  near 
white  as  you  are — so  near  one  would  need  a 
spy-glass  to  find  out  whether  you  are  black  or 
white !  Thank  God  for  it  every  day.  It's 
about  all  you've  got  to  thank  him  for  ;  so  you 
need  to  do  it  all  the  more.  A  nigger  is  ex- 
pected to  have  more  gratitude  for  smaller 
favors  than  any  other  created  bein',  an'  you 
ought  to  begin  to  practice  thankfulness  early. 
You'll  need  a  good  deal  of  grace  to  keep  you 
from  gettin'  tired  of  the  business  'fore  you  git 
to  my  age,  anyhow. 

.  "  Thank  God  every  day  that  you're  white — 
to  all  appearance,  at  least.  Of  course,  it 
won't  do  you  any  good  just  here  an'  now. 
You're  known  here  as  a  nigger,  an'  the  whiter 
a  nigger  is,  the  less  a  white  man  cares  for  him. 
As  long  as  a  man's  black  he  only  just  despises 
him  ;  but  when  he  begins  to  grow  white  he 
hates  him." 


MASTER  AND  DISCIPLE.  39 

"Why  should  that  be?" 

"  Why  ?  Don't  ask  me,"  answered  the  old 
man  testily.  "  You  might  as  well  ask  why 
one  man  is  white  and  another  black — why  God 
gave  the  white  man  a  right  to  take  all  he 
could  get,  and  made  it  the  nigger's  duty  to  be 
grateful  for  what's  left.  Perhaps  no  one  is  very 
fond  of  the  evidence  of  his  own  evil,  and  every 
one  like  you  is  a  living  testimony  of  the  white 
man's  falsehood,  treachery  and  crime.  Don't 
ask  such  questions,  Benny.  Be  grateful  you're 
white  an'  don't  be  too  inquisitive  about  how 
you  became  so.  It^  may  not  do  you  much 
good,  but  your  children  may  have  a  heap  bet- 
ter chance  in  this  world,  and  an  even  show 
for  the  next  because  of  it.  If  you  work  it  right 
you  may  even  get  to  be  a  white  man  yourself." 

"I'm  a  Negro,  sir,"  said  the  young  man 
proudly,  raising  his  head  as  he  spoke,  "  and  I 
do  not  care  who  knows  it :  I've  no  wish  to  be 
anything  else." 

"  Don't  say  that,  Benny,  don't  ever  utter  any 
such  foolishness !  There  can't  any  colored 
man  have  an  even  chance  in  this  world  nor  a  fair 
show  of  gettin'  to  the  next.  You  might  as  well 
say  you'd  rather  go  a-foot  than  ride  on  a  train. 
Instead  of  talking  in  that  way  you  ought  to 
look  things  square  in  the  face,  do  the  best  for 
yourself,  an'  get  to  be  a  white  man  as  fast  as 


4°  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

possible.  An'  the  first  thing  is  to  get  rich.  If 
you  were  rich,  Benny,  with  your  good  looks, 
all  you'd  have  to  do  to  be  white,  would  be  to 
go  where  you  wasn't  known.  Now,  that's  just 
what  I've  planned  out  for  you  to  do.  I'll  take 
you  into  partnership  this  year;  I'm  not  going 
to  tell  you  what  it's  worth.  There's  more'n 
boot-blackin'  in  it,  if  it's  run  right.  Then  next 
year,  I'll  get  out  entirely.  We'll  patent  the 
blackin',  an'  I'll  'tend  to  makin*  an'  sellin'  that. 
You  can  hold  on  here  as  long  as  you  like :  sell 
out;  take  a  trip  to  Europe:  come  back,  settle 
down  somewhere  out  West  or  anywhere  else, 
take  a  new  name — I  don't  reckon  you've  any 
special  claim  to  the  one  you've  used  thus  far — 
and  keep  right  on  makin'  money,  never  lettin' 
on  that  you're  not  as  white  as  anybody. 
That's  the  future  for  you,  Benny,  an'  you  ought 
to  be  glad  of  one  that  aint  any  harder.  It 
seems  queer,  but  the  one  thing  you've  got  to  be 
thankful  for  is  not.  the  goodness  of  God,  but 
the  meanness  of  man.  God  made  your  people 
black,  and  man's  wickedness  made  you  mighty 
near  white.  Don't  quarrel  with  your  luck,  Ben- 
ny. It's  better  to  be  a  white  pauper  than  a  rich 
nigger ;  but  there  aint  any  reason  why  you 
shouldn't  be  rich  and  white  both.  Don't  pre- 
tend you  don't  want  to  be  white.  It's  like  the 
devil  claiming  he  wouldn't  care  to  be  in  heaven. 


MASTER  AND  DISCIPLE.  4* 

He  may  feel  himself  just  as  good  as  the  best  of 
the  angels,  but  he  don't  have  as  good  things  as 
they,  and  isn't  half  as  much  respected  as  the 
meanest  of  them.  You  can't  help  the  rest  of 
the  colored  race  by  remaining  a  nigger,  and 
you  can  do  a  good  thing  for  yourself  and  save 
your  children  from  an  inheritance  of  woe  by 
making  yourself  white.  That's  sense  now, 
Benny,  and  I  offer  you  an  easy  way  to  do  it. 
What  do  you  say  to  it?" 

The  young  man  worked  on  in  silence. 

"What  do  you  say,  Benny?  "  asked  the  old 
man  anxiously.  "I  couldn't  advise  you  better 
if  you  were  my  own  son  ;  I  couldn't,  really. 
There's  a  fortune  in  the  blacking  itself,  when 
it  comes  to  be  known.  And  I'll  work  it  on 
equal  shares  and  you  needn't  be  known  in 
the  matter  at  all.  Don't  you  like  the  plan, 
Benny?  " 

There  was  something  pathetic  in  the  expres- 
sion of  the  pinched  face  which  looked  down 
upon  the  young  man,  while  its  owner  thus  vol- 
unteered to  devote  himself  to  the  happiness  of 
the  other. 

Though  unfinished,  he  tapped  the  boot  on 
which  he  was  engaged  with  the  brush  from 
force  of  habit,  and  straightening  up  looked 
into  his  patron's  face  as  he  replied  : 

"  It's  very  kind  of  you,  Mr.  Prime.     You've 


42  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

always  been  good  to  me — very  good,  indeed 
— but  I  can't  do  it,  sir — I  can't  do  it." 

"Can't  do  it?  asked  the  elder  in  surprise. 
"Why  not?" 

"You  know  I've  been  studying,  sir?" 

"Well?" 

"And  I've  decided  upon  another  profes- 
sion." 

"Another  what?" 

"  I'm  going  to  be  a  lawyer,  sir." 

"Oh,  I  see;  you  are  getting  above  your  busi- 
ness !"  exclaimed  Prime,  springing  to  his  feet 
and  hopping  off  the  platform.  "  Don't  you 
touch  my  boots  again,  sir!  I  can't  have  a  man 
black  my  shoes  that  thinks  he's  too  good 
to  handle  a  brush  !  You  jes'  git  outen  this  ! 
I  don't  want  any  fine  gentleman  workin'  at  my 
stand!  " 

"As  you  please,  Mr.  Prime,"  said  the  young 
man  quietly.  "  I  am  willing  to  stay  until  you 
can  get  a  man  in  my  place,  but  I  am  not  going 
to  be  a  bootblack  all  my  life  just  because  I 
happen  to  have  a  little  colored  blood  in  my 
veins." 

"  You  fool !  "  shouted  the  old  man,  towering 
over  his  assistant,  his  face  distorted  with  rage. 
"  You  think  it  is  the  calling  that  makes  one  a 
nigger,  not  the  color  of  the  skin.  Don't  you 
know  that  if  the  most  gifted  man  in  the  land 


MASTER  AND  DISCIPLE.  43 

was  known  to  have  a  drop  of  Negro  blood  in 
his  veins,  nine-tenths  of  all  the  Christian  people 
in  the  country  would  shun  him  as  he  were  a 
monster?  It  don't  hurt  a  white  man  to  black 
boots  and  won't  help  a  nigger  to  practice  law. 
He'll  be  a  nigger,  just  the  same  !  " 

"  I'd  rather  be  a  man  and  black,  than  a  mere 
money-bags  and  white,"  said  the  young  man, 
doggedly. 

"  Who  wants  you  to  be  any  less  a  man?" 
growled  Prime,  as  he  shuffled  along  the  dais 
and  began  to  re-arrange  his  brushes.  "  Isn't  it 
better  to  be  a  man  and  white,  than  be  the  same 
man  and  black  ?  " 

"  Not  if  one  is  black,"  said  the  youngster 
sullenly. 

"But  suppose  he  might  be  either;  how 
would  he  count  the  most — enjoy  the  most — 
as  a  white  man  or  as  a  nigger  ?  " 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  scorn  and 
bitterness  the  old  man  threw  into  the  term  he 
always  employed  to  describe  his  race.  It  has 
been  denominated  an  "Americanism,"  by  a 
recent  English  writer,  but  it  might  more  prop- 
erly be  called  an  Anglo-Saxonism.  It  is  uni- 
versal rather  than  local  in  its  use,  and  what- 
ever may  have  been  its  origin  has  come  to 
represent  the  concentrated  gall  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  hatred  and  contempt  for  any  people 


44  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

they  can  oppress  without  fear  of  interference 
by  other  nations.  It  is  the  unconscious  ex- 
pression of  the  irrepressible  tendency  of  this 
liberty-loving,  Christian  race,  the  world  over, 
to  oppress  the  poor  and  degrade  the  weak  in 
order  conclusively  to  demonstrate  their  own 
"  inherent  superiority  "  and  the  ennobling  influ- 
ence of  that  religion  which  commands  nations 
and  peoples,  as  well  as  individuals,  to  "  do 
unto  others  as  ye  would  that  they  should  do 
to  you."  The  English  tongue  has  carried  it, 
as  a  scepter  of  authority,  around  the  globe. 
Black  and  brown  and  yellow,  all  on  whom  it 
has  set  its  foot, — the  white  slaves  of  the  Bar- 
badoes,  the  varied  types  of  India,  the  Malay, 
the  Chinaman,  the  Soudanese,  the  Maori,  the 
Bushman,  the  Kaffirs,  the  Zulus,  and  whatso- 
ever other  race  the  just,  humane  and  liberty- 
loving  Englishman  has  found  it  profitable 
to  oppress  or  destroy — these  he  has  always 
marked  for  reprobation,  and  cut  off  from  any 
claim  to  equality  of  right  or  display  of  sym- 
pathy on  the  part  of  others,  by  bestowing  upon 
them  this  term  expressive  of  the  concentrated 
contempt  of  centuries — "  nigger  !  " 

That  the  old  man  felt  to  the  full  extent  its 
degrading  force  there  could  be  no  doubt,  and 
the  young  man's  flushed  face  showed  how 
keenly  he  felt  the  poisoned  lash  of  the  other's 


MASTER  AND  DISCIPLE.  45 

sarcasm.  He  said  nothing,  however,  but  went 
quietly  on  with  his  preparations  for  the  day's 
work. 

"  Listen  to  my  words,  Benny,"  said  the  old 
man  at  length,  in  a  changed  voice.  "  I've 
trod  the  wine-press,  and  I  know  what  it  is  to 
live  under  the  curse  of  God  and  the  contempt 
of  man.  Don't  volunteer  to  carry  a  load  you 
ain't  called  upon  to  bear.  Be  as  much  of  a 
man  as  you  choose,  but  be  a  white  man. 
Don't  transmit  the  degrading  curse  to  your 
children!  Remember  it  is  more  tolerable  to 
be  a  leper  than  to  be  a  Negro  in  a  Christian 
land !  I  have  known  women,  Benny — good 
women,  too,  who  sincerely  believed  that  the  act 
would  doom  their  souls  to  the  pangs  of  endless 
torment, — who  throttled  their  innocent  off- 
spring to  save  them  from  the  doom  of  the 
slave.  I  have  heard  gray-haired  mothers — 
more  than  one  of  them — exult  in  their  child- 
less condition,  and  thank  God  for  the  courage 
which  had  enabled  them  to  face  the  fires  of 
hell  in  order  to  save  the  sweet  little  ones  they 
had  borne  from  the  stain  of  pollution.  It  is 
horrible,  but  I  never  dared  to  blame  them, 
Benny.  Yet  slavery  was  never  half  so  great  a 
curse  as  that  brand  of  infamy  which  stamps 
the  soul  at  its  birth  with  ineradicable  inferiority. 
If  the  white  Christian's  idea  of  the  Negro  is 


4<5  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

a  true  one — and  you  must  remember  that  we 
have  no  means  of  judging  a  faith  but  by  the 
words  and  works  of  its  followers, — the  man  who 
begets  colored  children  to  suffer  the  pangs  of 
such  incurable  and  predestined  inequality,  is 
worse  than  a  brute.  It  would  be  a  thousand 
times  more  merciful  to  kill  the  little  innocents 
than  to  permit  them  to  suffer  the  woe  of  hope- 
less debasement.  If  this  infamous  doctrine  be 
true,  the  Christian  God  is  a  being  of  more  sub- 
tle and  relentless  cruelty  than  any  pagan  deity 
the  human  mind  ever  conceived.  Remember, 
Benny,  when  you  think  of  becoming  a  colored 
man  by  choice,  or  refusing  to  make  yourself  a 
white  man,  as  you  might,  what  a  world  of  un- 
merited degradation  you  are  bequeathing  to 
your  children  and  their  offspring, — God  only 
knows  for  how  many  ages  !  Remember  this, 
while  you  are  thus  lightly  choosing  debase- 
ment as  your  lot,  that  there  are  thousands  of 
your  race  that  would  gladly  lie  down  and  be 
flayed  alive,  if  they  might  rise  up  white — the 
peers  of  white  men  and  equal  heirs  of  right  and 
privilege  with  white  Christians  !  " 

There  was  something  very  solemn  in  the  old 
man's  tones,  and  his  unusual  use  of  the  correct 
racial  term  made  his  words  peculiarly  impres- 
sive. The  young  man  looked  at  him  in  won- 
der not  unmixed  with  dread,  for  the  uncanni- 


MASTER  AND  DISCIPLE.  47 

ness  of  his  visage  was  greatly  heightened  by 
excitement.  He  could  not  controvert  the 
views  of  the  man  upon  whose  judgment  and  ex- 
perience he  had  come  to  rely  with  peculiar  con- 
fidence, and  his  mind  was  filled  with  horror  at 
the  picture  his  companion  had  drawn.  Rarely 
had  he  known  him  to  manifest  excitement  on 
any  subject,  and  never  before  had  he  heard 
him  express  himself  upon  their  race's  rela- 
tion to  civilization  and  Christianity,  with  any- 
thing like  such  intensity  and  force  of  language. 
He  was  appalled,  almost  stunned,  by  the  terri- 
ble words — all  the  more  that  he  could  not  deny 
their  truth.  As  he  stood  dumbly  picking  at  the 
brush  he  held,  now  and  then  running  his  palm 
absently  along  its  bristled  face,  a  thousand 
facts  in  his  own  experience  rose  up  to  confirm 
the  old  man's  words.  His  heart  cried  out 
against  it.  His  very  nature  revolted  at  the 
thought  that  truth  could  be  so  terrible.  He 
had  been  so  full  of  hope,  aspiration — the  desire 
to  do  great  things,  to  rank  with  the  best  and 
be  deemed  as  worthy  as  the  worthiest !  He 
had  been  so  strong!  His  hope  had  been  so 
bright  and  his  courage  so  high  !  And  now  all 
this  dream  had  faded.  He  was — a  nigger ! 
He  sighed  wearily,  sat  down  upon  the  edge  of 
the  dais,  and  tried  manfully  to  pull  himself 
together  to  face  his  destiny. 


48  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

The  chill  morning  light  had  crept  into  the 
window,  while  this  conversation  had  been 
going  on.  A  closed  coupe  whirled  swiftly  past, 
going  toward  the  front  of  the  hotel.  Prime 
glanced  up  at  the  little  rifts  of  dust  and  snow 
the  wind  bore  backward  from  the  wheels. 

"  It's  goin'  to  be  a  bad  day,"  said  he,  breaking 
the  silence  and  relapsing  into  his  ordinary  tone. 

"  I'm  afraid  so,"  responded  Benny,  absently. 

The  old  man  took  his  Christmas  gift  from  th'e 
chair  on  which  it  had  lain  and  hung  it  on  a 
hook  at  the  farther  end  of  the  long,  narrow 
room,  giving  it  an  instinctive  brush  with  the 
wisp-broom  he  held  in  his  hand  as  he  did  so. 
As  he  shuffled  back  to  his  place,  footsteps  were 
heard  upon  the  stairs. 

"  Christmas  Gift,  Pactolus,"  said  a  cheerful 
voice. 

"  Mornin',  sir;  same  to  you,  sir,"  answered 
the  old  man  suavely  as  he  turned,  and  helped 
to  remove  the  gentleman's  overcoat.  "  You 
are  in  a  mighty  hurry  for  a  shine  this  morn- 
in',  Mr.  Phelps,"  he  continued  as  he  adjusted 
the  patron's  foot  more  firmly  on  the  rest  and 
prepared  to  begin  his  work.  "You're  our  very 
first  customer." 

The  boot-black  of  the  Best  House  addressed 
his  early  patron  with  deferential  familiarity. 

"  Well,  I  had  not  much  the  start,"  was  the 


MASTER  AND  DISCIPLE.  49 

answer,  with  a  nod  toward  the  stairway  from 
which  the  hum  of  voices  came. 

"  Here  they  come,"  said  the  elder  man 
with  a  quick  glance  at  his  assistant,  while 
he  addressed  himself  vigorously  to  his  task. 
"Look  alive,  now!  Time's  money  to-day," 
he  said  in  an  explanatory  undertone  to  his 
patron. 

The  Christmas  rush  which  had  begun  an 
hour  ago  at  the  office  of  the  Best  House  had 
reached  the  stand  of  Pactolus  Prime.  The  old 
man  and  his  helper  both  worked  with  the 
rapidity  and  skill  which  come  only  from  long 
practice. 

"  What  do  you  think  he'll  average  to-day?  " 
asked  one  customer  of  another  as  they  came 
down  the  stairs. 

"  Well,"  said  the  other  sagely,  "  probably 
twenty  an  hour — both  of  them,  that  is." 

"  That's  twenty  dollars  a  day,  at  a  dime 
apiece !  " 

"And  half  of  them  will  be  quarters  to-day." 

"  Who  wouldn't  be  a  boot-black  !  Why,  he 
ought  to  be  a  millionaire !  " 

"  But  he  pays  a  higher  rent  for  his  stand 
than  you  do  for  your  house." 

"You  don't  say?  Is  this  taffy  he's  giving 
me,  or  are  you  really  a  bloated  bondholder, 
Uncle  ?  "  asked  the  first  speaker  as  he  tucked  a 


5 o  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

newspaper  under  his  arm  and  lighted  a  cigar 
while  waiting  his  turn. 

"  Oh,  I've  made  a  little  money  at  the  busi- 
ness," answered  Prime  quietly,  without  inter- 
mitting his  work. 

There  was  a  laugh  from  the  bystanders. 
Every  one  is  good-natured  on  Christmas  Day, 
and  a  laugh  is  easily  started.  Phelps  looked 
down  at  the  old  man  bending  over  his  boot, 
with  a  quizzical  smile. 


V. 

WHAT  THE   "  HERALD-ANGELS  "   SAW. 

IT  is  only  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the 
"  herald  angels"  should  feel  some  curiosity  to 
observe  the  results  of  that  religious  force  they 
were  selected  to  announce  to  the  world,  and  it 
is  but  natural  to  infer  that  this  desire  must 
grow  all  the  stronger 

"  'gainst  that  season  comes   , 

Wherein  our  Saviour's  birth  is  celebrated." 

However  pure  in  purpose,  it  is  hardly  to  be 
supposed,  that  even  the  angelic  nature  is  uni- 
versal in  its  scope ;  and  curiosity,  it  is  pre- 
sumable, must  always  exist  until  perfect  knowl- 
edge has  left  nothing  to  be  made  known.  It 
would  seem  equally  natural,  also,  to  infer  that 
these  supernal  existences,  not  being  gifted, 
so  far  as  we  are  informed,  with  the  divine 
attribute  of  omniscience,  would  naturally  select 
the  capital  of  the  American  Republic  as  the 
most  advantageous  position  for  noting  the 
growth  and  exemplification  of  Christian  ideas, 
after  almost  nineteen  centuries  of  application 
51 


52  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

to  human  life,  and  more  than  ten  centuries  of 
undisputed  sway  among  a  people  admittedly 
foremost  in  their  devotion  to  Christian  prin- 
ciples. For  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  these 
notable  intelligences  must  be  aware  that  the 
American  people  claim  a  paramount  position 
among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  as  exponents 
of  the  essentially  Christian  ideas  of  liberty, 
justice,  and  equality  of  right,  privilege,  and 
opportunity.  They  would  certainly  not  be 
ignorant  of  the  fact  that  we  have  become,  by 
virtue  of  our  pre-eminent  religious  zeal,  the 
missionary  center  of  the  world,  sending  de- 
voted proselyters  to  uprear  the  standard  of  the 
Faith  in  every  land — among  the  hills  where 
the  Holiest  wandered  "  an  hungered,"  and 
taught  those  who  "  knew  not  whereof  he 
spake  "  ;  amid  the  sands  of  the  desert,  whence 
Augustine,  the  Numidian,  went  forth  in  search 
of  the  Christ  whose  apostle  had  declared  that 
"  All  are  one  in  Christ  Jesus  "  ;  in  the  very  city 
where  Luther  proclaimed  anew  the  unfettered 
truth  ;  in  the  islands  of  the  sea  and  "  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  earth,"  according  to  the 
Divine  commandment.  Knowing  this,  they 
would  no  doubt  expect  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples of  the  new  dispensation,  of  whose  birth 
they  were  the  primal  witnesses,  to  have  become 
instinctive  impulses  among  our  people,  so  that 


WHAT  THE  "  HERALD-ANGELS"  SAW.      53 

in  all  collective  as  well  as  individual  matters, 
the  first  inquiry  of  the  Nineteenth  Century 
American,  in  whatever  juncture  of  private  or 
public  affairs,  would  naturally  be,  "  What  do 
justice  and  equity  toward  my  fellow-men  re- 
quire that  I  should  do?" 

If  the  angels  aforesaid  were  really  permitted 
to  indulge  this  very  natural  desire  to  witness 
the  perfect  flower  of  the  ideas  whose  germi- 
nation they  once  hailed  with  exuberant  acclaim, 
and  did  actually  hover  about  the  gusty  pur- 
lieus of  Washington  on  that  Christmas  morn- 
ing in  the  year  of  grace  18 — ,  I  greatly  fear 
they  may  have  been  disappointed  in  their  ex- 
pectations. Of  course,  they  would  make  due 
allowance  for  the  weather,  understanding  very 
well  that  heat  expands  and  cold  contracts  all 
substances,  and  that  nothing  is  more  sensitive 
to  climatic  change  than  religious  sentiment. 
It  is  doubtful  if  they  would  give  much  atten- 
tion to  the  church  services.  They  must  know 
that  people  always  wear  their  best  clothes, 
morally  as  well  as  physically  speaking,  on  such 
occasions,  and  would  naturally  desire,  unless 
gifted  with  that  Divine  power  of  intro-spection 
which  leaves  eacTi  soul  naked  to  the  inquirer's 
gaze,  to  see  the  life  of  the  Christian  capital  in 
its  more  ordinary  and  less  restrained  conditions, 
in  order  that  they  might  fairly  judge  of  the  in- 


54  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

fluence  upon  the  general  life,  of  those  mighty 
truths  which  were  expected  to  so  change  the 
character  and  conditions  of  universal  humanity 
as  to  revolutionize  human  impulses  and  mini- 
mize human  wofulness. 

For  such  a  purpose  one  could  hardly  imagine 
a  better  point  of  observation  than  the  base- 
ment of  the  Best  House.  The  office  and 
corridors  above  were  by  this  time  so  full  of 
surging,  clamoring  crowds  that  even  an  angel 
might  well  ask  to  be  excused  from  attempt- 
ing a  correct  estimate  of  their  individual  or 
collective  character.  In  the  barber  shop  and 
at  the  boot-blacking  stand,  however,  there  is 
not  only  a  sufficient  pause  to  enable  one  to 
study  his  man  a  little  at  leisure,  but  the  observer 
is  apt  to  take  him  somewhat  off  his  guard  and 
get  glimpses  of  his  nature  that  he  is  not  accus- 
tomed to  reveal.  It  is  always  to  one  beneath 
him  in  the  social  scale  that  one  shows  his  true 
character.  That  is  why  no  man  is  ever  a  hero 
to  his  valet.  The  boot-black  enjoys  similar 
advantages  and  is  pretty  sure,  if  he  wishes,  to 
see  completely  through  the  man  he  looks  up 
to.  It  is  possible,  however,  that  some  angels, 
like  certain  Christians,  may  be  a  little  scrupulous 
as  to  the  company  they  keep,  and  so  would  pre- 
fer never  to  know  the  truth,  than  to  go  where 
it  may  best  be  learned.  At  any  rate,  Prime's 


WHAT  THE  "HERALD-ANGELS"  SAW.      55 

shop  would  have  been  a  good  location  for  an 
angel  who  wanted  to  obtain  reliable  data  for  a 
little  cherubic  figuring  on  the  "times"  and 
"  seasons  "  of  the  Apocalypse. 

Before  Pactolus  Prime  had  finished  cleaning 
the  right  shoe  of  his  first  customer  the  chairs 
upon  the  dais  were  all  occupied,  and  two  or 
three  other  patrons  were  waiting  their  turns 
here  and  there  about  the  room.  All  of  them 
greeted  the  proprietor  of  the  "  stand  "  pleas- 
antly, and  he  assured  each  that  he  would  be 
ready  for  him,  "  in  jest  a  minit."  Most  of 
them  spoke  to  Ben,  also,  for  the  young  man, 
instead  of  taking  his  excited  employer  at  his 
word,  had  remained  at  his  post,  and  was  show- 
ing himself  a  worthy  pupil  of  the  boot-black 
of  the  "  Best."  In  fact,  both  Prime  and  his 
assistant  were  experts,  the  tools  they  used  were 
the  best  obtainable  and  always  ready  to  their 
hands.  The  boot  was  first  brushed  clean  ;  the 
surface  lightly  sponged ;  the  blacking,  already 
prepared,  was  quickly  and  evenly  applied;  a 
few  strokes  with  long,  soft  brushes ;  then  the 
swift  recurrent  play  of  a  pair  with  stiff  bristles  ; 
some  strokes  across  the  instep,  a  quick  breath 
upon  the  toe,  and  the  even,  polished  surface 
needed  no  farther  touches.  A  tap  upon  the 
foot ;  the  process  is  repeated  ;  the  patron  steps 
down  ;  another  takes  his  place  ;  the  ever-ready 


5  6  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

wisp-broom  searches  the  bits  of  dust  upon  the 
clothing ;  a  dime  passes  from  hand  to  hand — on 
Christmas  it  is  perhaps  a  quarter,  and  the  cus- 
tomer says:  "  Never  mind  the  change!  "  Then 
there  is  a  bow.  a  word  of  thanks,  and  the  Christ- 
mas greetings  are  repeated  with  as  much  fer- 
vor as  anywhere,  and  probably  as  much  sin- 
cerity as  usual. 


It  was  not  until  Prime  was  applying  the 
blacking  to  the  second  boot  of  his  first  cus- 
tomer that  he  again  addressed  him  : 

"  Tears  to  me  you  are  out  mighty  early  this 
mornin',  Mr.  Phelps?"  he  said  inquiringly. 

The  grave,  kindly  face  looked  down  upon 
the  black  head  bowed  over  his  foot,  with  a 
curiously  expressive  smile. 

"Well,  yes,"  the  patron,  who  was  evidently 
a  favorite  with  the  owner  of  the  stand,  replied, 
in  a  tone  that  betrayed  the  familiarity  between 
them.  "  You  see  I  have  been  intrusted  with 
the  delivery  of  a  Christmas  gift  of  some  value, 
and  it  behooves  an  assistant  of  St.  Nicholas  to 
be  stirring  early." 

"  So  ?  "  rejoined  the  bootblack,  significantly. 
"  I  shouldn't  have  thought  you'd  have  waited 
ter  have  yer  boots  blacked  at  all." 

"But  it's  a  lady,  Prime,  and  you   wouldn't 


WHAT  THE  "HERALD-ANGELS"  SAW.      57 

have  even  the  agent  of  Santa  Claus  enter  a 
lady's  presence  without  due  preparation?" 

"Plenty  of  time  for  that,"  said  Prime,  draw- 
ing back  his  head  to  inspect  his  work.  "  I'll 
lay  a  bit  to  a  nickel  she  ain't  out  of  bed  yet." 

"Oh,  you  don't  know  her,  or  I  am  sure  you 
wouldn't  say  that." 

"  Course  not ;  I  was  jes'  speakin'  on  general 
principles." 

"  General  principles  wont  do  for  particular 
cases.  You  see  this  young  lady's  been  badly 
treated  and  cannot  be  expected  to  sleep 
late." 

"  Been  flirtin'  with  some  youngster,  I 
s'pose." 

"  Worse  than  that." 

"Worse?     In  love,  then." 

"  Yes,  and  with  an  old  man,  too  !  " 

"  Sho!  sho !  'taint  so,  now?  An'  he's  send- 
in'  her  a  present?  " 

"  Exactly." 

"  An'  you  a-carryin'  it  for  him  ?  "  archly. 

"  Just  so,"  meaningly. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Phelps,  I  shouldn't  hev  thought 
it — an'  you  a  family  man,  too !  " 

There  was  a  laugh  among  the  bystanders, 
and  expressions  of  mock  concern  for  the 
grave-faced  lawyer,  who  made  no  attempt  to 
check  the  merriment. 


5§  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  You  mustn't  tell  on  me,  Pac,"  said  Phelps  in 
assumed  anxiety,  biting  the  corners  of  his  lip 
as  if  to  repress  a  smile  at  the  old  man's  mirth. 

"Not  for  the  world,  sir !"  answered  Prime 
gaily,  "  but  if  I  did  the  Missus  wouldn't  be- 
lieve me — known  you  too  long  for  that,  sir. 
'Taint  your  fault,  nuther — jes'  yer  misfortin'. 
Comes  of  bein'  a  lawyer,  I  reckon." 

"  Certainly  ;  the  old  man  wouldn't  do  the 
errand  himself,  you  see,  so  I  have  to  do  it  for 
him." 

"  'Fraid  she'd  catch  him  in  a  lie,  I  reckon." 

"  Something  of  that  sort,  I  think." 

"  Wai,  he's  an  old  rascal,  that's  what  he  is," 
said  Prime,  emphatically.  "  Did  you  ever  notice 
that  most  bad  men  are  old,  Mr.  Phelps  ?  But 
a  lawyer  has  to  serve  them  just  the  same — 
saint  and  sinner — Christmas  and  week-days,  I 
s'pose." 

"  Well,  of  course  ;  a  client  is  a  client,  but  I 
have  rarely  had  a  more  unpleasant  task  than 
this." 

There  was  a  curious  cadence  in  his  voice  that 
half-belied  his  words,  or  seemed  intended  to 
convey  a  special  meaning  to  some  of  his 
hearers. 

"  I  should  not  think  you  would  do  it.  then," 
said  a  mild-looking  man  wearing  a  white  tie, 
who  sat  in  the  chair  next  to  him.  "  It  always 


WHAT  THE  ''HERALD-ANGELS"  SAW.      59 

seems  like  sinning  on  the  Sabbath  to  do  a 
questionable  act  on  Christmas  day." 

"  A  sort  of  aggravation  of  the  offense,  eh?  " 
asked,  the  lawyer  with  a  smile. 

"Well,  yes,"  responded  the  minister,  "of 
course,  wrong  is  wrong,  and  time  or  place  can 
make  no  difference  to  the  Divine,  but  it  does 
seem  worse  to  us  ;  doesn't  it  now  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,"  said  the  other,  "  but  I  do 
not  regard  the  act  I  am  commissioned  to  per- 
form as  involving  any  moral  obliquity — only 
monumental  stupidity." 

"  Do  you  have  such  cases  often  ?  "  asked 
Prime,  who  seemed  to  have  lost  his  ill-temper 
and  to  be  enjoying  the  conversation  with  a 
zest  hardly  to  be  accounted  for  by  its  charac- 
ter. "  I'd  like  ter  know  ;  cause  Benny  here,  has 
got  tired  of  blackin'  boots  like  a  nigger,  and 
wants  to  be  a  lawyer  like  a  white  man." 

"  Well,  why  shouldn't  he  be  one?  "  asked  the 
lawyer,  drawing  his  eyebrows  down  and  look- 
ing sharply  under  them  at  the  old  man. 

"  He  can't  be  a  white  man,  no  matter 
what  he  does  ;  and  the  nearer  white  he  is,  the 
less  use  white  folks  will  have  for  him.  They 
can  afford  to  be  kind  to  a  black  nigger  like  me, 
you  see,  but  one  who  is  whiter  than  some  white 
men,  like  Ben — pshaw !  such  a  one  is  an  object 
of  suspicion — as  far  as  you  can  see  him  !  He's 


60  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

got  no  chance  to  be  anything  more  or  less 
than  a  nigger,  and  a  nigger's  got  no  call  to  be 
a  lawyer.  What's  the  good  of  law  to  him — or 
religion  either,  for  that  matter?  Money's  the 
god  he  ought  to  worship.  Let  him  get  money 
and  buy  whatever  can  be  bought  ;  and  let  the 
rest  go.  It  may  do  for  white  folks  to  worship 
God  ;  but  niggers  ought  to  worship  Mammon. 
That's  their  only  chance  for  salvation." 

"You  shouldn't  speak  so  lightly  of  religious 
matters,  my  friend,"  said  the  minister,  gravely. 

"  Lightly !  "  exclaimed  Prime.  "  I  was  never 
more  in  earnest  in  my  life.  Isn't  that  what 
you  tell  them,  sir?  Don't  you  tell  them  they 
must  wait  for  their  rights  until  they  get  rich — 
until  they  have  property, — and  don't  you  know 
all  the  time  they  can't  get  property,  not  much, 
at  least,  until  they  have  knowledge  ?  That's 
what  a  President  said — I  heard  him  myself, — 
right  over  yonder,  when  we  asked  him  to  try 
and  do  something  to  give  us  a  little  learning, 
and  a  sort  of  fair  show  in  the  world.  He 
didn't  say  he  couldn't  do  anything;  he  didn't 
seem  to  think  there  was  anything  to  be  done. 
He  just  told  us  to  go  home  and  wait  and 
work  until  we  got  as  much  money  as  white 
folks,  and  then — " 

"What  did  he  promise  you  then?"  asked 
Phelps. 


WHAT  THE  "HERALD-ANGELS"  SAW.      6 1 

"  Nothing,"  said  Prime.  "  He  didn't  seem  to 
think  we'd  need  anything  more :  an*  'taint 
likely  we  would.  Now,  I  ask  you,  Mr.  Phelps, 
what'll  Benny  gain  by  a  change  of  trade  ?  He'll 
still  be  a  servant,  won't  he?  Is  it  any  less 
honorable  to  black  boots  for  dimes,  than  do 
errands  you  don't  approve  of  for  dollars?  I'll 
warrant  your  task  is  the  more  unpleasant." 

"  No  doubt  it  is,"  said  the  other  meaningly, 
"but  you  need  have  no  fear  that  he  will  ever 
have  such  an  errand  to  perform." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  the  old  man  boldly. 

"The  conditions  are  not  likely  to  occur 
again." 

"  The  conditions  !  "  repeated  Prime,  who  had 
now  finished  his  work  and  standing  up  before 
his  patron  peered  at  him  excitedly  through 
his  glasses,  "  the  conditions  !  Remember,  Mr. 
Phelps,.  'yesterday's  miracle  is  to-morrow's 
commonplace.'  The  conditions  which  come 
only  once  in  a  lifetime  now,  may  happen  every 
day  in  the  future." 

"  Possibly,"  said  the  lawyer  gravely.  He 
stepped  down  from  the  dais  and  extended  his 
hand  with  a  coin  between  the  fingers,  as  the 
old  man  finished  brushing  his  hat. 

"  Thank  you,  sah,  not  to-day,"  said  the  old 
man  with  serio-comic  gravity.  "  I  wouldn't 
want  to  take  money  from  a  man  on  such  an 


62  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

errand  to-day — might  bring  me  bad  luck,  you 
know! " 

"  All  right,"  said  the  lawyer  pleasantly,  put- 
ting the  money  in  his  pocket.  "You  can't 
escape  my  good  wishes,  though.  By  the  way, 
Pactolus,"  he  added  carelessly,  "  you  are  quite 
sure  that  those  papers  I  drew  up  for  you  the 
other  day  are  just  right  ?  " 

"  Just  right,  sir,  just  right." 

"Because  if  they  are  not, — they  have  not 
yet  been  delivered,  you  know." 

He  looked  at  the  other  earnestly,  as  if  hoping 
for  an  answer  which  he  did  not  expect. 

"Quite  sure,  sir;  they're  just  right!"  an- 
swered the  old  man  firmly,  meeting  his  glance 
for  an  instant,  and  then  turning  back  to  serve 
the  next  patron. 

The  lawyer  started  to  ascend  the  stairs  with 
a  troubled  look  upon  his  face. 

"Good-morning,  Mr.  Phelps,"  said  a  young 
man  approaching  him  with  an  easy,  familiar 
manner;  ""can't  you  give  me  an  item  for  a 
'Christmas  gift'?  Small  favors  thankfully 
received,  you  know ;  anything  from  half  a 
page  to  half  a  stickful." 

"  I  believe  not  this  morning,  Mr.  Stearns," 
was  the  pleasant  reply  as  the  lawyer  extended 
his  hand.  "  How  are  you  getting  along  on  the 
Index  f  Well,  I  hope  ?  " 


WHAT  THE  "  HERALD-ANGELS"  SAW.      63 

"  Oh,  I  can't  complain ;  I've  a  fair  enough 
lay,  thanks  to  your  endorsement." 

"  Not  at  all ;  that  merely  gave  you  a  chance. 
One  may  open  the  gate  for  another — get  him 
enttered  in  the  race  of  life — but  each  must  do 
his  own  running." 

"  So  I  suppose ;  well,  I  will  try  not  to  make 
you  sorry  for  giving  me  a  chance." 

"  I  have  no  fear  of  that,"  said  the  elder 
heartily.  "  How  is  your  mother  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  much  better,  thank  you." 

"Well,  you  know  the  nautical  injunction  to 
the  man  at  the  wheel,"  said  the  lawyer,  shak- 
ing his  finger  at  him  impressively,  "  '  Keep 
her  so  ' !  " 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  the  youngster 
smartly,  touching  his  hat. 

The  lawyer  smiled  approvingly. 

"  Give  her  my  Christmas  greeting,  if  I  should 
be  unable  to  see  her  to-day,"  he  said  moving* 
toward  the  stairs. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  replied  the  other — "  but — 
Mr.  Phelps— " 

"  Well?  "  looking  back  inquiringly. 

"That  matter  you  were  speaking  about  just 
now, — excuse  me — there  seemed  to  be  a  chance 
for  an  item  there — if — if  you  are  at  liberty  to 
speak  of  it,  that  is.  A  rumor  of  that  sort, 
you  know — ' 


64  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

The  young  man's  enthusiasm  seemed  to  die 
out  as  he  watched  the  lawyer's  grave,  immo- 
bile face. 

A  good  many  had  come  and  gone  while 
Phelps  had  occupied  the  chair,  for  the  old  m#n 
had  dallied  unaccountably  with  his  first  custo- 
mer, but  there  were  still  two  or  three  who  had 
heard  the  conversation  with  Prime.  These 
leaned  eagerly  forward  to  hear  what  reply 
would  be  made  to  the  reporter's  request.  Ben 
glanced  curiously  around  and  was  evidently  on 
the  alert  to  catch  every  word  of  the  conversa- 
tion going  on  behind  him.  Pactolus  Prime 
worked  on  in  silence,  apparently  indifferent. 

"  No,"  answered  the  lawyer  earnestly,  glanc- 
ing at  Prime  as  he  spoke.  "  I  cannot  reveal  a 
client's  business.  Yet  this  is  a  case  which  I 
wish  all  the  world  might  know  about.  An  old 
man  insists  upon  giving  a  young  lady  the  better 
part  of  the  savings  of  a  lifetime  !  " 

"Humph!"  said  Prime  with  a  snort,  "  an' 
his  blessin'  with  it,  I'spose  !" 

"  And  the  young  lady?  "  asked  the  reporter, 
scarcely  repressing  a  smile  of  sarcastic  pity  for 
the  verdancy  of  his  elderly  friend,  "  she  is  ex- 
pected to  be  very  grateful  to  this  benefactor — 
of  course?" 

"  He  has  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  learn 
the  source  of  her  good  fortune." 


WHAT  THE  "HERALD-ANGELS"  SAW.      65 

"  Impossible !  " 

"Absolutely." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  he  would  not  receive 
any  credit  for  generosity  should  he  choose  to 
reveal  himself?  " 

"  Not  the  least,"  replied  the  lawyer  with 
emphasis. 

"  And  this  Christmas  gift  amounts  to  a  con- 
siderable sum  ?  " 

"  A  very  respectable  fortune." 

"  And  the  giver  does  not  expect  any  re- 
ward ?  " 

"  He  hopes  to  make  the  lady  happy." 

"  W-h-e-w  !  "  whistled  the  reporter.  "  That's 
too  sensational !  " 

"  No  relation  of  his  ?  "  asked  the  mild-faced 
divine. 

"  None  whatever." 

"  Well,  he  is  a  big  fool !  "  grunted  Prime. 

"  He  must  be  a  good  Christian,"  said  the 
minister. 

"He  is  not  so  considered,  I  am  sorry  to  say," 
answered  Phelps  with  some  show  of  irritation 
on  his  wrinkled  brow. 

"  It's  a  pity,"  rejoined  the  other  with  a  sigh. 

''That  he  is  not  esteemed  a  Christian?" 
asked  Phelps  sharply. 

"Oh,  no,"  answered  the  other  gently  ;  "that 
matters  little  ;  it  is  a  pity  there  are  so  few  like 


66  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

him.  It  makes  no  difference  what  a  man  is 
called  if  he  seeks  the  happiness  of  others,  for- 
getful of  himself." 

"  Suppose  you  called  him  a  '  nigger,'  "  said 
Prime,  looking  up  from  his  work  with  one  of 
his  ghastly  grins. 

"  Don't  think  because  you  are  an  unbeliever 
that  all  your  race  are  infidels  or  hypocrites, 
Uncle,"  rejoined  the  mild-faced  man  with  some 
severity.  "Remember  that  a  greater  pro- 
portion of  the  colored  people  of  the  United 
States  are  Christians  than  of  any  other  people 
in  the  world  !  " 

"  And  a  bigger  portion  of  them  fools,  too  ; 
isn't  that  so,  Dominie  ?  "  asked  Prime  with  a 
chuckle. 

"  There  are  a  good  many  illiterates  among 
them,  it  is  true,  but  still— 

"  About  how  many — nine  out  of  ten  ?  " 

"  Well,  probably — of  the  adults." 

"  And  what  made  them  so  ?  Who  kept  them 
in  darkness?  "  exclaimed  Prime  fiercely,  going 
on  with  his  work  but  jerking  his  head  over 
his  shoulder  with  every  backward  movement 
and  looking  up  over  his  glasses  at  the  minister. 

"Why,  slavery,  of  course,  Uncle" — apolo- 
getically. 

"And  what  was  slavery,  sir?"  exclaimed 
the  old  man,  dropping  one  of  his  brushes  and 


WHAT  THE  "HERALD-ANGELS"  SAW.      67 

leaning  toward  his  listener  with  uplifted  finger. 
"  What  was  slavery  ?  Only  another  name  for 
the  worship  of  the  White  Christ !  You  made 
the  Negro  a  Christian  by  holding  him  down  and 
pouring  your  doctrine  into  him  !  He  was  not 
free  to  choose.  '  He  was  bullied,  coerced  and 
deceived.'  He  did  not  know  what  it  was  he 
professed  to  believe.  He  was  not  permitted 
to  know.  You  would  .not  even  let  him  read 
your  Holy  Book  !  He  was  taught  a  lie — that 
God  could  be  unjust — could  hate  and  oppress 
a  race  because  of  the  color  of  'its  skin  !  Do 
you  think  salvation  can  ever  come  through 
falsehood  and  crime?  Will  they  always  be- 
lieve what  they  accepted  in  this  way  ?  Will 
not  the  Christianity  of  the  children  be  colored 
by  the  wrongs  of  the  parents  ?  Oh,  I  know  they 
pray  and  sing — aye,  and  almost  starve  them- 
selves to  give  for  the  church ;  but  you  might 
almost  as  well  call  a  man  a  drunkard  because 
he  reels  and  staggers  and  babbles  when  alcohol 
has  been  injected  into  his  veins,  as  call  these 
ignorant  and  deceived  victims  of  a  faith  which 
measures  right  and  wrong  by  the  color  of  the 
skin,  Christians!  God!  that  the  followers  of 
Christ  should  claim  merit  even  on  Christmas 
Day,  for  the  devil's  work !  " 

"  Pactolus!"  said  the  lawyer  sternly. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Phelps,"  said  the 


68  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

old  man,  turning  towards  him  with  great  beads 
of  sweat  on  his  brow,  "  I  aint  a-meanin'  you. 
If  they  was  like  you,  I'd  be  a  Christian  too,  I 
would — I  swear  !  " 

"  Never  mind,  Pactolus,  you  know  what  I 
think  about  these  things.  All  in  good  time — 
in  good  time,  my  friend." 

The  lawyer  turned  and  extended  his  hand 
with  a  smile  as  he  spoke.  The  old  man  looked 
at  his  own  grimy  hand  ;  wiped  it  instinctively 
on  the  cloth  beside  the  foot-rest,  and  then 
clasped  the  other's  and  shook  it  heartily. 
There  was  just  enough  of  incongruity  in  this 
to  waken  a  murmur  of  approval,  followed  by  a 
hearty  laugh,  on  the  part  of  the  bystanders. 

"  Never  mind,  Pactolus,"  the  lawyer  re- 
peated pleasantly,  "  you've  done  enough  to 
vindicate  the  claims  of  your  race  to  recogni- 
tion to-day.  It  does  no  good  to  disturb  others' 
enjoyment  because  you  see  what  they  cannot 
discern." 

"  I  'spose  you're  right,  Mr.  Phelps, — and  I 
give  you  notice,  gentlemen,  that  if  any  one 
says  another  word  to  me  about  religion  to-day, 
he  may  black  his  own  boots,  for  all  of  me. 
You're  a  Christian,  Mr.  Phelps,  and  I  am  only 
a  black  pagan,  but  we  manage  to  understand 
each  other  pretty  well.  Good-day,  sir." 

He  turned  to  his  work. 


WHAT  THE  "  HERALD-ANGELS"  SAW.      69 

<l  Good-by,"  said  Phelps.  "  Good-morning, 
gentlemen." 

The  lawyer  went  up  the  stairs,  the  reporter 
following  carelessly.  He  entered  a  coupe  that 
was  in  waiting,  and  the  reporter  hurried  after  it 
as  it  was  driven  rapidly  away. 


VI. 

AN  ASSESSMENT   OF  DAMAGES. 

I  AM  afraid,  uncle,"  said  the  minister  very 
gently,  as  Phelps  and  the   reporter  disap- 
peared, "that  you  are  too  impatient — your  peo- 
ple I  mean ;  you  want  everything  at  once." 

"Did  anybody  ever  owe  you  money?"  asked 
Prime. 

"Unfortunately,   yes,"   answered   the   other 
with  a  smile. 

"When  did  you  ask  for  payment?" 

"When  it  was  due,  of  course.     I've  never  had 
enough  to  grow  careless  in  that  respect." 

"Was  it  ever  refused?" 

"Well,"  said  the  minister,    still  smiling,  "it 
has  often  been  neglected." 

"I    suppose   when    payment   was    neglected 
you  ceased  to  ask  or  desire  it,  didn't  you?" 

"I  have  sometimes  ceased  to  ask — never  to 
desire." 

"And  why  did  you  cease  to  ask?" 

"Because  I  grew  hopeless,  I  suppose." 

"Did  it  make  you  especially  happy  to  be  de- 
prived of  what  you  had  a  right  to  receive?" 
70 


AN  ASSESSMENT  OF  DAMAGES.  7 1 

"Certainly  not,  but — 

"Wait  a  minute!  If  the  amount  thus  un- 
justly withheld  from  you  had  embraced  every 
cent  you  had  earned  in  your  whole  life — the 
entire  earnings  of  your  parents  and  their  pa- 
rents for  two  centuries  and  a  half,  depriving 
them  of  every  luxury,  every  opportunity,  every 
privilege,  every  right — everything  in  fact  except 
the  barest  necessities  of  existence — would  you 
think  you  ought  to  be  called  '  impatient,'  if 
you  began,  after  waiting  uncomplainingly  so 
many  years,  to  speak  a  little  roughly  of  your 
debtor?" 

"I  suppose  not;  but  you  see — " 

"One  word  more,"  said  Prime  respectfully,  as 
he  finished  brushing  the  coat  of  his  reverend 
customer  and  turned  to  begin  work  upon  the 
boot  of  another  who  had  already  taken  the 
seat,  "I  don't  want  to  hurt  your  feelings,  sir, 
nor  to  say  anything  you  might  consider  disre- 
spectful, either  to  yourself  or  your  profession, 
but  I  have  more  feeling  in  this  matter  than  you 
might  suppose." 

"Very  naturally,"  rejoined  the  other,  waiting 
to  continue  the  conversation.  "You  are  a  col- 
ored man." 

"Well,  yes,"  said  Prime,  glancing  up  with  a 
sardonic  grin,  his  white  teeth  showing  through 
the  dark  lips,  "I  am  so  taken  and  accepted  ;  but 


72  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

then  you  are  white,  so  the  interest  should  be 
mutual." 

"1  hardly  see  it,"  said  the  other  inquiringly; 
"you  naturally  feel  the  wrongs  your  race  has 
suffered,  or  which  you  fancy  they  have  suffered, 
more  keenly  than  we." 

"In  other  words,  you  think  the  one  who  suf- 
fers is  more  likely  to  remember  the  wrong  than 
the  one  who  perpetrates  it.  Very  likely.  It 
doesn't  seem  as  if  it  ought  to  be  so,  does  it? 
Seems  as  if  it  ought  to  be  just  the  other  way — 
the  man  who  does  wrong  ought  never  to  be  able 
to  forget  it.  Perhaps  that  would  make  us  all 
too  unhappy,  though.  Well,  I'll  tell  you,  sir, 
how  I  feel  about  it.  I  feel  as  if  Christianity — 
the  followers  of  the  white  Christ — had  robbed 
my  people  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  of 
bodily  toil  and  rightful  opportunity,  taking  the 
proceeds  to  add  to  their  own  wealth,  their  own 
luxury,  the  education  of  their  children,  the 
building  of  churches  and  colleges, — whatever 
they  chose  which  was  to  their  own  exclusive 
advantage.  Not  a  dollar  nor  a  cent  came  back 
to  us  in  any  form.  We  gave  and  you  took; 
that  is  all  there  is  of  it.  You  said,  'Blessed  be 
the  name  of  the  Lord,'  as  well  you  might ;  and 
we  were  expected  to  say  the  same  in  order  that 
we  might  be  allowed  the  credit  of  having  souls. 
You — American  civilization,  American  Chris- 


AN  A  SSESSMENT  OF  DA  MA  GES.  7  3 

tianity,  sir, — took  our  money, — the  honest 
wages  of  our  toil, — and  no  shuffling  or  evasion 
can  avoid  the  responsibility.  As  Mr.  Phelps 
said  one  day,  'it's  a  debt  that  can't  be  barred 
by  any  statute  of  limitation.'  ' 

"Well,"  interrupted  one  to  whose  finely 
shaped  boot  Benny  was  giving  a  final  touch,  a 
thin-faced,  positive  man  whose  fingers  worked 
nervously  while  his  eyes  flashed  angrily  as  he 
spoke,  "I  wish  you  niggers  would  find  out  just 
how  much  the  country  owes  you,  or  how  much 
you  would  be  satisfied  with,  and  let  us  pay  you 
off  and  quit  fussing  about  it !  I  don't  seem  to 
have  heard  of  much  else  in  my  day  except  the 
wrongs  of  the  nigger,  and  I'm  tired — sick  of 
the  whole  matter!  I'd  like  to  have  the  account 
settled  and  be  done  with  it !" 

"You  would  find  it  a  pretty  hard  one  to 
state,  and  harder  still  to  pay  off,"  said  Prime 
solemnly.  "Such  claims  as  ours  grow  fast  and 
draw  big  interest." 

"Oh,  we  wouldn't  be  particular  about  the 
amount,"  said  the  last  speaker.  "I  don't  think 
we  would  even  ask  credit  for  any  counterclaim 
or  set-off,  if  we  could  only  stop  the  race's  whin- 
ing and  have  them  own  up  that  they  were  sat- 
isfied for  once.  I've  had  enough  of  it  myself. 
I'd  like  to  see  the  account  squared  and  start 
fresh,  with  the  understanding  that  each  race 


74  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

was  to  keep  up  its  own  end  hereafter  and  ask 
no  favors.  It  wouldn't  be  long  before  you'd 
get  tired." 

"You  would  be  the  first  to  get  tired  of  such 
a  bargain,"  said  the  old  man  confidently. 

"How  so?" 

"In  trying  to  square  the  account." 

"Why,  how  much  do  you  suppose  the  whole 
value  of  the  Negro's  work  in  the  United  States 
as  a  slave  would  amount  to?"  asked  the  other 
defiantly.  "During  the  whole  time,  I  mean, 
from  the  day  the  first  slave  was  landed  at 
Jamestown  until  the  last  one  was  set  free?" 

"A  good  deal  more  than  you  would  care  to 
pay." 

"Well,  how  much?"  said  the  other,  taking  out 
paper  and  pencil.  "Out  with  it!  Let's  come 
down  to  figures.  I'm  a  traveling  man  and  ac- 
customed to  narrow  margins.  Come  now,  set 
your  price!" 

"Well,"  said  Prime  as  he  finished  with  an- 
other customer,  "I  'spose  ten  cents  wouldn't  be 
too  high  a  price  for  a  day's  work,  would  it, 
over  and  above  such  board,  clothes  and  attend- 
ance in  sickness  as  we  received?" 

"Well,  probably  not,"  answered  the  traveling 
man  with  characteristic  promptness,  and  evident 
surprise  at  the  moderation  of  the  demand. 

"And  I  s'pose  it  wouldn't  be  out  of  the  way 


AN  ASSESSMENT  OF  DAMAGES.  75 

to  estimate  three-fifths  of  each  life  as  work- 
time,  at  that  rate,  leaving  out  two-fifths  for  in- 
fancy, old  age  and  sickness?" 

"I  should  say  that  was  a  liberal  basis  on  which 
to  estimate  it,"  interposed  the  minister. 

"Well,"  said  the  drummer,  squinting  up  his 
eyes  as  if  making  a  close  bargain,  "consider- 
ing the  price  per  day,  it  can't  be  called  un- 
fair. That  is  certainly  low — too  low.  You'll 
fall  behind  at  that  rate,  old  man.  We'll  pay 
you  off  at  your  own  price  and  not  feel  it. 
About  a  cigar  a  day  less,  for  each  smoker  in  the 
country  for  a  week  or  so,  would  make  it  all 
right,  I  should  say.  Put  up  your  figures,  man ! 
Say  fifteen  or  twenty  cents  a  day,  anyhow!" 

The  drummer  spoke  in  a  confident,  bantering 
tone,  shifting  his  cigar  from  one  side  of  his 
mouth  to  the  other  by  the  motion  of  his  lips, 
as  he  spoke,  but  Prime  answered  quietly : 

"No;  ten  cents  will  do;  and  that'll  be  a  heap 
more  than  we'll  ever  get." 

"How  much  would  it  amount  to?  I  suppose 
you  have  looked  the  matter  up,  you  speak  so 
confidently." 

"Figure  it  out  yourself,"  said  Prime.  "You 
kept  us  ignorant  on  purpose  that  we  might  not 
know  what  was  our  due  and  how  it  was  taken 
from  us.  It  isn't  a  hard  sum.  Benny  here 
worked  it  out  the  other  day,  all  by  himself,  so 


7  6  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

it  must  be  easy,  for  he's  a  nigger,  gentlemen ; 
he  couldn't  do  a  hard  sum !  Tell  'em  about  it, 
Benny." 

"Oh,  it's  not  difficult,"  said  the  young  man, 
with  a  flush  on  his  fair  face.  "You  see 
there  were  two  hundred  and  forty-seven  years 
of  bondage ;  there  were  twenty-six  slaves  at 
first  and  five  millions  at  the  last.  Making  it 
an  even  progression,  counting  only  three  hun- 
dred days  to  the  year,  and  throwing  off  two- 
fifths  of  the  whole  for  childhood,  old  age  and 
sickness,  and  putting  the  rest  at  ten  cents  a 
day,  and  it  would  amount  to  more  than  ten 
billions  of  dollars  !  " 

"What !"  exclaimed  the  commercial  man. 
"It  can't  be!  Do  you  want  the  earth?" 

"You  can  work  it  out  by  yourself  if  you 
think  I  have  made  a  mistake,"  said  the  young 
man  proudly. 

The  salesman's  pencil  flew  over  the  pad. 
The  others  waited  in  silence  for  his  decision. 

"Well,  I  vow!"  he  muttered,  as  he  added  a 
cipher  and  marked  off  the  decimals,  "I  wouldn't 
have  thought  it !" 

"Is  he  right?"  asked  the  minister  earnestly. 

"Right!"  exclaimed  the  expert,  "he's  fully 
a  half  billion  below  the  truth!" 

"You  don't  say,"  murmured  several  of  the 
bystanders. 


AN  ASSESSMENT  OF  DAMAGES.  77 

"We'll  throw  off  the  odd  half  billion  and  take 
the  rest  in  long-time  bonds  at  two  per  cent,  in- 
terest, if  you  please.  That's  fair,  isn't  it,  Mister?" 
said  Prime,  addressing  the  man  of  samples. 

"Uncle,"  said  the  other,  as  he  put  up  his 
book  and  pencil  and  slipped  down  to  be 
brushed  off.  "You've  got  me  !  You're  right ! 
We're  your  debtors  and  aren't  likely  to  get 
square  with  you,  either!  I'm  with  you;  send 
in  your  account !  Blamed  if  I  ever  snarl  at  a 
nigger  for  grumbling,  again." 

"But  the  ground  of  indebtness  hasn't  been 
half  stated  yet." 

"Don't  want  to  hear  any  more;  I've  had 
enough.  Good-by,  uncle." 

He  dropped  a  liberal  douceur  into  the  young 
man's  hand,  shook  his  head  when  offered 
change,  and  had  disappeared  up  the  stairway 
by  the  time  another  was  seated  in  the  chair. 

"I  must  go  too,"  said  the  minister  apologeti- 
cally. "I  had  never  thought  of  the  matter  in 
this  light  before.  Your  people  certainly  can- 
not be  blamed  for  feeling  that  they  have  been 
bitterly  wronged  ;  but — was  it  Christianity  that 
did  it,  my  friend?" 

"It  was  Christian  men  and  women  who  did 
it — the  earthly  exponents  of  the  Christian 
idea, — and  they  received  the  advantage,"  an- 
swered Prime. 


7 8  PACTOLUS  PRIME.    • 

"But  Christianity  is  not  responsible  for  all 
that  is  done  even  by  its  votaries." 

"Why  not?  You  hold  Mahometanism  re- 
sponsible for  all  the  ills  of  Turkish  life  and  gov- 
ernment, and  credit  heathenism  with  the  woes 
that  befall  the  people  who  practice  idolatry. 
In  like  manner,  Christianity  is  responsible  for 
every  evil  it  permits  to  exist  among  a  Christian 
people — or  that  results  from  a  Christian  gov- 
ernment. This  amount  is  only  a  tithe  of  what 
Christianity  owes  my  people.  Who  shall  esti- 
mate the  damages  for  lost  opportunity,  to  say 
nothing  of  violated  right?  Who  shall  state  the 
money  value  of  two  centuries  of  enforced  igno- 
rance and  depravity?  What  sum  could  com- 
pensate a  people  for  the  stain  of  universal  ille- 
gitimacy, the  denial  of  fatherhood,  the  violation 
of  maternal  right,  the  debasement  of  female  vir- 
tue, the  utter  effacement  of  all  family  ties  and 
family  relations,  the  refusal  of  even  a  family 
name?" 

"I — I  don't  know,"  said  the  minister  blankly. 
"I  never  thought  of  it  in  that  light  before. 
Good-morning,  sir." 

He  seemed  to  forget  the  color  of  the  old 
man's  skin  as  he  bowed  respectfully  to  Prime 
and  went  slowly  and  thoughtfully  up  the  stairs. 

Several  customers  had  come  and  gone  during 
this  conversation.  The  hands  of  the  boot 


AN  ASSESSMENT  OF  DAMAGES.  79 

black  and  his  assistant  had  not  been  idle.  The 
knitted  cap  had  been  pushed  back  on  Prime's 
head,  showing  the  dingy  scalp  almost  to  the 
crown.  The  sweat  beads  stood  upon  his  brow. 
The  right  side  of  his  face  twitched  nervously, 
and  the  words  flowed  from  his  lips  as  if  he  were 
uttering  the  stored-up  thoughts  of  a  lifetime. 
Those  who  were  accustomed  to  his  usually  quiet 
demeanor  were  surprised  at  the  feeling  he  dis- 
played, while  his  assistant  glanced  up  at  him 
now  and  then  with  a  look  almost  of  reverence. 
"I  wonder  if  he  is  right,"  mused  the  minister 
as  he  walked  along  the  street  toward  a  church 
whose  echoing  chimes  invited  a  thronging  multi- 
tude of  well-dressed  worshipers.  "Who  would 
have  dreamed  there  could  be  such  a  difference 
in  the  views  that  may  be  taken  of  the  Saviour 
of  Mankind  and  the  Message  which  ushered  in 
the  Christian  Era!  Can  it  be  that  he  is  right? 
Those  are  terrible  truths  which  he  recounts; 
can  it  be  that  the  followers  of  the  Christ  have 
made  Him  seem  to  be  only  the  friend  and  Sa- 
viour of  the  white  man?  Is  Prime  right  in  call- 
ing Him  the  "White"  Christ?  Will  we  never 
learn  the  Master's  lessons?  Will  the  rich  and 
strong  and  brave  who  profess  His  name,  never 
learn  to  put  themselves  in  the  place  of  the  weak 
and  poor  and  timid?  Must  His  very  name  be 
a  thing  of  terror  and  distrust  to  those  for  whom 


8o  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

He  died?  It  is  hard  enough  to  be  black  with- 
out having  the  curse  of  eternal  hopelessness 
added  to  it !  It  must  be  difficult  to  reconcile 
such  an  apparent  curse  with  the  idea  of  Divine 
mercy !  And  then  to  think,  to  feel,  to  believe, 
that  the  Christ — the  divine  and  universal  lover 
of  humanity — to  think  that  His  church  is  but 
the  cult  of  the  wrongdoer — the  oppressor! 
God  help  us !  how  little  we  know  of  each  other's 
burdens  and  how  our  own  acts  may  make  heavier 
the  load  our  neighbor  bears !  Yet  what  can  we 
do?  God  help  us — it  is  a  terrible  problem  !  " 

The  good  man  brushed  aside  a  tear  as  he 
went  up  the  marble  steps,  and  his  face  was  very 
sad  as  he  passed  through  the  vestibule  of  the 
great  church  thronged  with  happy  faces  and 
full  of  the  soft  echoes  of  half-suppressed  but 
joyful  greetings.  The  hymns  and  prayers 
seemed  full  of  the  idea  of  the  "White"  Christ ! 
His  heart  stood  still  with  horror,  even  as  he  lis- 
tened to  the  songs  of  jubilee,  as  he  thought 
what  would  have  been  his  own  religious  status 
had  the  Man  Jesus  Christ  been  black,  and  the 
circumstances  of  his  life  and  that  of  Pactolus 
Prime  been  reversed.  He  was  a  good  man,  and 
tried  faithfully  to  picture  to  his  own  mind  the 
terrors  of  such  a  transformation.  Yet  how  far 
below  the  fact  did  the  wildest  effort  of  his 
fancy  fall ! 


VII. 

SOME   EXPERT   TESTIMONY. 

WELL,  Uncle,"  said  the  man  who  took 
the  commercial  traveler's  place,  "I  am 
not  an  expert  accountant,  but  you  can't  hum- 
bug me  with  such  figures  as  we've  been  having 
here.  I  know  something  about  the  facts  of  his- 
tory, and  something  about  niggers  too;  and 
when  you  come  to  talk  about  the  white  people 
of  this  country  being  indebted  to  the  colored 
man,  I  tell  you  it's  all  nonsense.  When  a  nig- 
ger got  his  board  and  clothes,  house  and  fire- 
wood, and  a  doctor  to  attend  him  when  he  was 
sick,  he  got  all  his  work  was  worth,  and  gener- 
ally a  good  deal  more." 

"He  raised  what  he  ate,  didn't  he?"  asked 
Prime  sharply. 

The  bystanders  smiled  at  the  evidently  perti- 
nent inquiry. 

"Why,  of  course  ;  all  but  the  sugar  and  coffee 
and  whisky  and  tobacco  and  things  of  that 
sort,"  boastfully  answered  the  undismayed  as- 
sailant. 

8r 


82  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"And  how  much  did  the  slave's  sugar  and 
coffee  and  'things  of  that  sort'  average  a  year, 
do  you  think?"  asked  Prime  blandly. 

"Well — not  a  great  deal,  that  is  true,"  was 
the  careless  reply. 

"How  many  masters  furnished  such  luxuries?" 

"Not  so  many,  perhaps;  though  many  fur- 
nished tobacco,  and  molasses,  and  most  of  them 
allowed  deserving  slaves  to  raise  truck  for  them- 
selves, with  which  to  buy  little  things  of  that 
sort.  This  amounted  to  the  same  thing  as  pro- 
viding it.  You  see  it  was  the  master's  land 
they  worked,  the  master's  time  they  used,  and 
the  master's  niggers  that  did  the  work.  So  you 
may  as  well  say  the  master  furnished  them." 

The  man  spoke  with  such  positiveness  as  to 
make  himself  offensive  to  the  listeners,  as  their 
countenances  clearly  showed.  Prime  did  not 
seem  to  mind  it,  but  said  quietly,  as  he  finished 
mixing  a  new  supply  of  blacking  on  the  marble 
block: 

"In  other  words,  you  mean  that  after  the 
bondman  got  through  his  day's  work,  they 
allowed  him  to  use  the  time  he  otherwise  might 
have  wasted  in  rest  or  recreation — which  a  free 
man  would  perhaps  have  employed  in  reading, 
study  and  self-development — in  cultivating  a 
crop  to  buy  himself  the  ordinary  creature  com- 
forts." 


SOME  EXPERT  TESTIMONY.  83 

"Of  course,"  said  the  other  with  a  sneer, 
"he  wasn't  sent  to  school !" 

"No,"  answered  Prime,  "and  he  was  pre- 
vented by  law  from  learning  anything  that  is 
taught  in  the  schools,  wasn't  he?" 

"Well,  sometimes." 

"Sometimes!  Was  it  not  a  crime — a  viola- 
tion of  the  statute  law — punishable  as  a  felony, 
to  teach  him  to  read  or  write?" 

"Yes,  that  was  the  law,  but  it  was  not  always 
enforced.  There  were  a  good  many  who  al- 
lowed their  slaves  to  learn  to  read  and  write." 

"How  many  slaves  did  you  ever  know  who 
had  such  acquirements?" 

"Well,  I've  heard  of  quite  a  number." 

"How  many  have  you  known? — how  many 
could  you  name?" 

"Not  many;  one  or  two." 

"I  have  known  more  than  that  number," 
said  Prime  frankly.  "I  suppose  I  could  recall 
a  half-dozen.  I  was  one  myself.  But  they 
were  not  numerous;  they  did  not  average  one 
in  a  thousand — hardly  two  in  ten  thousand." 

"Oh,  there  must  have  been  more  than  that!" 

"Fortunately,  the  matter  is  not  left  to  be 
guessed  at.  There  were  a  few,  a  very  few,  who 
slipped  by  the  sentinel  who  stood  with  a  flam- 
ing sword  at  the  gate  of  the  garden  in  which 
grew  the  tree  of  knowledge ;  but  two  years 


84  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

after  the  close  of  the  war  it  was  next  to  impos- 
sible to  find  a  score  of  grown  colored  men  in 
many  of  the  counties  of  a  half-dozen  States, 
who  could  read  ten  lines  intelligibly.  That  I 
know;  and  I  think  it  a  high  estimate  to  say 
that  two  in  ten  thousand  of  the  five  millions  of 
slaves  could  read  and  write  when  liberated. 
Even  these  few  were  the  result  of  unlawful 
indulgence  on  the  part  of  individual  masters, 
or  of  exceptional  enterprise  and  daring  on  the 
part  of  the  men  themselves.  They  were  un- 
lawful trespassers  in  the  field  of  knowledge, 
and  liable  to  the  severest  punishment  if  their 
offense  was  discovered.  If  they  dared  acquire 
knowledge  they  were  compelled  to  conceal  and 
deny  its  possession." 

"The  masters  could  not  afford  to  educate 
their  slaves." 

"Why  not?" 

"Why  not!" 

Yes;  why  not?  The  free  men  of  the  North 
educated  themselves  by  their  own  labor,  didn't 
they?  And  had  a  surplus  to  invest  in  homes 
and  luxuries,  besides?" 

"Of  course." 

"If  an  average  laborer  at  the  North  could 
support  himself  and  family  and  educate  his 
children,  besides  earning  a  surplus  for  invest- 
ment or  luxury,  why  should  not  the  men  who 


SOME  EXPERT  TESTIMONY.  85 

enjoyed  the  proceeds  of  the  slave's  labor  have 
been  able  to  afford  him  at  least  the  rudiments 
of  an  education?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  questioner  hesitatingly,  "but 
it  was  the  States  that  educated  the  people  of 
the  North." 

"Exactly;  but  the  State  schools  were  sup- 
ported by  the  tax-payers,  and  the  tax-payers 
represented  the  results  of  labor,  didn't  they? 
Then  why  should  not  a  Christian  State  that 
added  the  labor  of  the  slave — aye,  even  the 
slave  himself,  to  its  taxable  aggregate — why 
should  it  not  have  educated  his  children?" 

"Now.  Uncle,  what  is  the  sense  of  talking  in 
that  way?"  burst  out  the  objector  angrily. 
"You  know  it  would.not  have  done  to  educate 
the  slaves.  They  would  have  been  burning  and 
killing  the  white  people  in  no  time  if  they  had 
been  educated.  Why,  man,  it  would  have 
needed  a  regiment  in  every  county  to  keep 
them  down,  and  you  know  it.  But  what's  the 
use  of  fussing  about  the  matter  now?.  Slavery 
is  dead  and  gone.  You  are  just  as  free  as  I  am. 
What  do  you  want  to  keep  harping  on  what 
two-thirds  of  the  people  now  living  know  noth- 
ing in  the  world  about,  except  by  hearsay?" 

"If  a  man  robbed  you,  I  suppose  you  would 
say  nothing  about  it?" 

"Not  if  there  were  no  chance  for  me  to  get 


86  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

back  what  I  had  lost, — certainly  not  after  he 
was  dead  and  gone." 

"Not  if  you  saw  his  children  flaunting  the 
fruits  of  his  wrong  in  your  face,  and  boast- 
ing of  it  every  day?"  exclaimed  the  old  man, 
straightening  up  while  his  customer  put  his 
other  foot  upon  the  form. 

"Who's  got  the  money  the  nigger  earned?" 
angrily  shouted  the  other,  shaking  his  folded 
newspaper  in  the  old  man's  face.  "Can  any- 
body trace  it?  Does  anybody  know  how  much 
it  is?  Where  is  it  deposited?  In  what  is  it  in- 
vested? I  am  tired  of  these  indefinite  state- 
ments. If  a  man  can  prove  his  property,  he 
has  a  right  to  take  it,  not  otherwise.  That  is 
the  law!" 

* 

"That  is  the  law;  but  it  is  not  equity,  and 
our  case  is  in  equity.  We  do  not  ask  to  follow 
that  which  is  ours,  in  specie.  Our  demand  is 
for  an  equivalent,  or  a  partial  equivalent,  for 
what  has  been  wrongfully  taken  from  us  and 
converted  to  the  use  of  the  taker." 

It  was  Ben  who  spoke.  Up  to  this  time  he 
had  taken  no  part  in  the  conversation,  and  his 
words  were  greeted  with  applause  by  most  of 
those  present. 

"Well  done,  youngster,"  said  a  gruff  man 
upon  whose  boot  the  young  man  was  at  work. 
"You  haven't  studied  law  for  nothing;  but 


SOME  EXPERT  TESTIMONY.  87 

when  one  tries  to  apply  the  rules  of  equity  to 
the  practice  of  peoples  and  nations,  I  am  afraid 
he  will  run  foul  of  a  good  many  obstacles." 

"But  the  rules  hold  good  though  they  cannot 
be  enforced,  do  they  not,  Judge?"  asked  the 
young  man  respectfully. 

"Oh,  of  course ;  they  must  if  they  are,  as  we 
are  fond  of  declaring  them  to  be,  'what  the 
common  reason  of  mankind  approves  as  just 
and  true.' ' 

"In  equity  then,"  the  young  man  continued, 
"those  who  received  the  labor  of  our  people  un- 
justly, became  trustees  for  us  by  their  own 
wrongful  act,  and  it  is  not  necessary  that  we 
should  follow  and  designate  our  own.  The 
trustee  de  son  tort  who  mingles  the  trust  fund 
with  his  own  becomes  a  debtor  to  that  amount." 

"True  enough,"  said  the  gruff  man  with 
kindly  condescension,  "but  where  is  the  fund? 
Who  is  the  tortfeasor  ?  What  estate  will  you 
subject  to  the  slave's  claim?" 

"It  seems  to  me,  sir,"  said  the  young  man, 
looking  frankly  up  into  his  interlocutor's  face, 
"that  the  slave's  labor  has  gone  into  the  national 
wealth — that  immense  aggregate  we  have  re- 
cently seen  paraded  before  the  world's  eyes  with 
so  much  boastfulness — I  don't  know  how  many 
billions  it  is — and  that  all  this  is,  in  equity, 
charged  with  whatever  sums  may  be  necessary 


88  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

to  recompense  our  people,  so  far  as  may  be,  for 
the  wrong  done  them  in  the  past." 

"That  is  a  bold  claim,  young  man,"  said  the 
jurist,  in  a  tone  which  of  itself  expressed  warm 
commendation.  ,  "If  the  principles  of  equity 
could  be  applied  to  national  affairs,  or  rather  to 
collective  relations,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how 
such  a  claim  could  be  avoided.  One  objection 
would  be  that  there  is  no  means  of  making  any 
distinction  between  the  slaveholder  or  his  de- 
scendants, and  those  who  remonstrated  against 
the  injustice  of  slavery  and  opposed  its  con- 
tinuance." 

"It  is  the  duty  of  all  the  people  to  see  that 
the  law  wrongs  no  man,  is  it  not?" 

'Very  true,"  said  the  judge  affably,  "but  you 
understand  that  in  our  dual  system  of  govern- 
ment the  people  of  one  State  are  not  responsi- 
ble for  what  the  people  of  another  State  may 
do,  except  within  certain  limits." 

"I  understand  that,"  said  the  young  man  ; 
"at  least  I  have  tried  to  understand  it." 

"That  is  as  near  as  anybo'dy  gets,  my  son," 
answered  the  judge,  laughing.  "I've  been  try- 
ing a  long  time  to  make  out  the  puzzle,  and 
am  free  to  confess  that  it  doesn't  grow  easier. 
I  suppose  it  will  take  another  hundred  years  to 
decide  just  where  the  boundary  lies  between 
state  and  national  power  and  state  and  national 


SOME  EXPERT  TESTIMONY.  89 

responsibility  for  the  rights  and  privileges  of 
the  citizen.  For  myself,  I  must  say  I  never 
approach  the  subject  without  feeling  like  a  sur- 
veyor setting  out  to  find  a  way  through  an 
unexplored  wilderness." 

"Of  course,  I  don't  know  much  about  the 
matter,  Judge,"  said  the  young  man  modestly, 
"but  it  seems  to  me  that  the  people  of  all  the 
States  are  estopped  from  denying  their  responsi- 
bility for  slavery  and,  therefore,  their  moral 
liability  for  its  results.  You  see  slavery  pre- 
vailed in  every  one  of  the  original  thirteen 
States ;  and  although  hundreds  of  slaves  fought 
in  the  Continental  armies  to  secure  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  Colonies,  yet  when  these  Colo- 
nies— these  sovereign  peoples  if  you  please — 
came  to  form  'a  more  perfect  union/  each  one 
of  them  agreed  that  every  other  one  might  hold 
men  in  bondage,  take  from  them  every  right 
and  privilege,  even  to  life  itself,  simply  because 
they  had  more  or  less  of  colored  blood  in  their 
veins.  They  stood  by  consenting,  and— 

"Like  Saul  at  the  stoning  of  Stephen,  eh?" 
exclaimed  the  judge.  "There  is  something  in 
that,  certainly.  But  how  about  the  new  States?" 
he  asked,  seemingly  desirous  of  drawing  the 
youngster  out. 

"They  derive  their  powers  and  privileges 
through  the  action  of  the  older  States,  and  are 


9°  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

morally  as  well  as  legally,  subject  to  the  same 
responsibility.  In  other  words,  they  are  only 
convenient  extensions  of  the  original  thirteen. 
Now  the  fact  that  any  of  these  States  at  a  sub- 
sequent time  abjured  the  doctrine  of  slavery 
and  found  their  hands  tied  by  the  Constitution 
so  that  they  were  unable  to  interfere  with  it  in 
others,  does  not  relieve  them  from  responsibility, 
because  they  themselves  assented  to  this  re- 
striction of  their  power.  They  not  only  sub- 
mitted to  have  their  hands  tied  but  helped  to 
tie  them." 

"But,  of  course,  you  cannot  hold  the  whole 
people  of  a  State  responsible  for  the  wrong-do- 
ing of  a  part  of  them,"  said  the  judge  gravely. 

"Not  unless  the  wrong  is  a  result  of  some 
public  act  or  neglect,  but  in  such  cases  the 
courts  frequently  hold  the  whole  responsible 
for  the  resultant  injury,  do  they  not?  For  in- 
stance, if  a  State  takes  a  man's  property,  the 
whole  body  of  the  people  is  taxed  to  make  the 
owner  whole.  So  too,  if  property  is  destroyed 
in  a  riot,  the  muncipality  which  did  not  afford 
sufficient  protection  is  responsible  for  the  dam- 
ages." 

"Well  said,  young  man,  well  said,"  exclaimed 
the  judge  heartily,  as  he  relieved  the  groaning 
chair  of  its  burden  of  flesh  and  stepped  gingerly 
off  the  platform.  "Mr.  Phelps  has  reason  to  be 


SOME  EXPERT  TESTIMONY.  91 

proud  of  his  pupil.  I  hope  to  see  you  at  the 
bar  very  soon,  sir,  and  do  not  doubt  you  will 
have  occasion  to  express  your  views  upon  these 
matters  more  effectually  when  I  am  dead  and 
gone." 

"That  isn't  all,"  said  Prime  eagerly;  "I  ain't 
a  lawyer  like  Benny,  but  I've  thought  a  heap 
about  this  matter,  Judge,  and  I  reckon  justice  is 
about  the  same  thing  whether  she's  seen  through 
your  glasses  or  mine." 

"Well,  as  she  is  always  represented  as  blind- 
folded we  may  infer  she  is  not  particular  about 
her  appearance  and  doesn't  care  who  sees 
her; — though  it  seems  inconsistent  to  speak  of 
her  as  a  woman  if  that  is  the  case,"  answered 
the  judge,  with  humorous  complaisance. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Prime  seri- 
ously. "But  this  is  what  seems  to  me  to  put 
an  end  to  any  such  claim.  They  all  shared  in 
the  proceeds  of  the  wrong.  It  could  not  be 
otherwise,  you  see." 

"It's  a  great  question — a  great  question," 
responded  the  judge  as  he  started  to  leave. 
"God  has  a  strange  way  of  keeping  his  ac- 
counts— the  debit  and  credit  of  right  and 
wrong  between  races  and  peoples — and  settling 
them  according  to  His  own  notions.  He  holds 
the  scales  between  them  as  courts  do  between 
man  and  man,  only  a  great  deal  steadier.  Our 


9  2  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

equity  is  only  a  faint  reflection  of  His  justice, 
but  the  procedure  in  the  Heavenly  Chancery" — 
he  pointed  upward  with  the  fat  forefinger  of  his 
left  hand,  an  awkward  but  impressive  gesture, 
and  shook  his  great  head  as  he  glanced  round 
upon  the  listeners — "the  procedure  up  there  is 
different  from  ours.  There's  no  shuffling,  and 
the  judgments  entered  there  are  always  en- 
forced— always  enforced,  gentlemen!" 

The  little  group  were  silent  as  he  turned 
away  and  climbed  the  steps  with  a  ponderous 
strength  which  concealed  the  effort  it  must 
have  required.  The  respect  which  had  kept 
others  silent  while  he  took  part  in  the  conver- 
sation, was  not  so  much  due  to  the  exalted  posi- 
tion which  he  held,  as  to  that  innate  respect  for 
his  moral  and  intellectual  qualities  which  has 
been  the  bulwark  of  the  American  judiciary. 


VIII. 

COUNTERCLAIM   AND   SET-OFF. 

'  QO  you  claim  about  ten  billion  of  dollars. 
^J  '  for  work  and  labor  done,'  do  you, 
Prime?"  jocularly  asked  one  who  had  taken 
no  part  hitherto  in  the  conversation,  "  and  the 
old  judge  actually  drops  an  intimation  that 
you  have  a  good  cause  of  action.  Don't  be- 
lieve it,  old  man  ;  the  most  unreliable  opinion 
in  the  world  is  that  of  a  judge  out  of  court. 
You  see  it  takes  the  solemnity  of  an  oath  to 
bring  him  up  to  a  sense  of  duty  sufficient  to 
impel  him  to  carve  a  claim  according  to  rule 
and  precedent." 

"Oh,  we  don't  make  any  claim,"  said  Prime 
good-naturedly.  "What's  the  use  of  our 
claiming  anything  ?  Who  would  pay  our  de- 
mand if  it  was  allowed  ?  What  white  people 
would  think  it  worth  their  while  to  pay  any 
claim  the  Negro  might  have  against  them  ? 
The  Christian  idea  of  justice  never  gets  across 
the  color  line.  It  counts  it  wicked  to  rob  the 
strong,  but  no  crime  to  mulct  the  weak  under 
the  form  of  law.  Right  is  always  white  in 
93 


94  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

Christian  law ;  so  we  do  not  claim  anything — 
never  have  claimed  anything.  We  have  merely 
asked  for  justice,  asked  so  humbly  and  for 
so  little  that  the  world  has  looked  upon  us  as 
mere  beggars  by  the  wayside,  seekers  for  alms 
rather  than  heirs  of  equal  right.  If  the 
followers  of  Christ  really  believed  what  they 
profess — if  they  believed  that  He  died  for  any- 
body but  white  men — they  would  never  dare 
ask  for  mercy  until  they  had  tried  to  render 
justice.  It  is  not  recompense  that  we  seek, 
but  right.  Justice  to-day,  pays  all  the  debts  of 
yesterday,  and  nothing  else  will." 

"  Now  see  here,  Prime,"  said  a  cheery  voice, 
as  a  man  with  an  empty  sleeve  pinned  across 
his  breast  took  his  seat  upon  the  dais,  "  I've 
been  listening  to  what  has  been  said  here  for 
the  last  half-hour,  and  while  I  admit  that  you 
colored  folks  have  had  a  hard  time  I'll  be 
hanged  if  you  aren't  going  a  little  too  far. 
You  don't  state  the  case  fairly  when  you 
charge  up  all  your  wrongs  against  us  and  omit 
to  give  credit  for  what  you  have  received 
from  us." 

"  If  there  are  .any  credits — if  the  white  race 
has  done  any  good  thing  to  the  Negro  or  made 
any  sacrifice  for  his  sake — they  are  entitled  to 
double  credit,"  said  Prime  earnestly. 

"  Well,  just    give    us    credit  among   other 


COUNTERCLAIM  AND  SET-OFF.  95 

things  for  this  arm,  will  you?  "  said  the  other 
gayly,  lifting  up  the  stump  to  a  level  with  the 
shoulder. 

"  That  I  will,  Major — and  mighty  willingly, 
too,"  returned  Prime  heartily,  "if  you  say  I 
ought  to.  I  remember  when  you  lost  that 
arm,  and  shall  never  forget"  how  neatly  you 
caught  the  sword  in  your  left  hand  as  it  fell, 
and  cried  out, 'Come  on,  boys!  I've  always 
wanted  to  use  my  left  hand,  but  it  was  contrary 
to  Regulations! ' ' 

"You  see  I  was  left-handed,"  said  the  Major, 
flushing  with  modesty  under  the  approving 
glances  that  rested  upon  him  after  this  speech. 
"  But  how  did  you  come  to  see  it?  Were  you 
one  of  the  '  niggers '  we  captured  that  day?" 

"  No,  I  was  one  of  the  '  niggers '  that  followed 
you  that  day,"  said  Prime  with  a  chuckle. 

'"  You  ?  Why,  there  wasn't  a  nigger  in  the 
whole  army  that  charged  on  Mission  Ridge 
that  day ! " 

"  /was  there,  all  the  same,"  said  Prime  dog- 
gedly, "  and  wasn't  twenty  steps  away  when 
you  fell  and  Sergeant  Cushman  caught  yon 
and  started  for  the  rear." 

"  I  remember,"  said  the  other  enthusias- 
tically, "  I  had  just  sense  enough  left  to  think 
we  had  been  repulsed.  1  cared  a  great  deal 
more  for  that  than  I  did  for  my  wounds.  Cush- 


96  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

man  was  shot,  poor  fellow,  and  I  should  have 
been  left  there  and  bled  to  death,  I  think,  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  the  color-bearer,  Smith — what 
was  it  the  boys  used  to  call  him — Oh,  yes — 
Pepper-pod — his  initials  were  P.  P.,  you  see," 
he  explained  to  the  bystanders — "he  was  a  gal- 
lant fellow!  Did  you  know  him?" 

Prime  answered  with  a  nod,  without  looking 
up  from  his  work. 

"I  wonder  what  became  of  him?  I  never 
saw  him  afterward.  He  was  promoted,  you 
see,  and  given  a  commission  in  a  colored  regi- 
ment before  I  got  back." 

Prime  made  no  reply.  The  Major  was  silent 
for  a  moment,  evidently  thinking  of  the  time 
when  his  life  was  at  the  climacteric. 

"Whose  servant  were  you  then?"  he  asked 
after  a  while. 

"I  don't  know — exactly,"  answered  Prime, 
dryly. 

"What  the  dickens  were  you  doing  up  there, 
anyhow?" 

"Well,  Major,  I  was  doing  a  little  fighting, 
about  that  time." 

"On  your  own  account,  eh?  I  don't  blame 
you,"  said  the  other  with  a  laugh. 

"No,  Major,  I  was  fighting  on  your  account 
just  then.  I  was  an  enlisted  man,  and  the  army 
of  the  United  States  fought  for  the  Union,  not 


COUNTERCLAIM  AND  SET-OFF.  97 

for  the  freedom  of  the  slave.  I  was  a  slave 
fighting  for  the  Union — for  your  advantage, 
you  see,  not  mine." 

"Well,   that  followed.     We   gave  you   your 
freedom  as  soon  as  we  got  through  with  the. 
Confederacy,  and  you  ought  to  give  us  credit 
for  it.     Isn't  that  so,  old  man?" 

"Did  you  give  us  our  freedom?  Was  it  not 
ours  by  right  already?" 

"Well,  we  stopped  the  other  fellows  from 
taking  it  from  you.  What's  the  difference?" 
asked  the  maimed  veteran  with  a  confidence 
that  evoked  nods  of  approval  from  the  lis- 
teners. 

"We  were  talking  about  a  fair  account  be- 
tween the  Negro  and  the  white  man,  Major." 

"Certainly.  Didn't  the  white  man  give  you 
your  freedom?" 

"Didn't  he  first  deprive  us  of  liberty?" 

"Yes,  but  he  ought  to  have  credit  for  giving 
it  back  all  the  same." 

"In  other  words,  having  deprived  us  of  all 
our  rights  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  years,  we 
( became  the  debtor  of  the  race  as  soon  as  they 
give  us  backaflart  of  what  the  laws  of  God 
and  nature  declare  to  be  our  own.  Is  that 
what  you  mean,  Major?" 

"Really,  that  seems  to  be  about  the  size  of  it, 
Prime,"  said  the  Major  laughing,  as  he  buttoned 


98  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

his  overcoat  and  prepared  to  depart,  "but  I 
never  thought  of  it  in  that  light.  I  don't  see 
that  we  can  claim  much  credit,  as  a  people,  for 
giving  the  Negro  back  his  freedom ;  but  there 
is  one  thing  we  did  give  you  that  was  not  yours 
before,  and  to  which  you  had  no  moral  or  legal 
claim ;  we  made  you  citizens  of  the  United 
States." 

"True,"  said  Prime  solemnly,  "that  is  a  fair 
credit,  but  how  much  is  the  right  or  privilege — 
you  always  boast  of  it  as  a  right  and  then  deal 
with  it  as  a  privilege — how  much  is  it  worth  to 
the  colored  race?  You  gave  us  a  legal  right  to 
exercise  the  power  of  the  citizen — so  you  said 
at  least — and  then  permitted  its  exercise  to  be 
made  a  matter  of  mortal  peril  to  the  colored 
man  who  seeks  to  benefit  himself  or  his  people, 
thereby.  As  a  business  man,  Major,  what 
would  you  give  for  the  Negro's  right,  as  a  citi- 
zen, anywhere  south  of  that  river?"  said  Prime, 
nodding  his  head  toward  the  Potomac. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  Prime,"  answered 
the  Major  with  a  shrug.  "Ask  me  something 
easy." 

"Is  it  worth  more  than  the  blood  the  Negro 
shed  for  the  Republic,  from  Crispus  Attucks's 
day  until  the  last  poor  fellow  who  offered  his 
life  in  the  assertion  of  this  new-found  privilege? 
Remember,  Major,  that  the  Negro  gave  his 


COUNTERCLAIM  AND  SET-OFF.  99 

blood  in  the  Revolution  and  two  hundred  thou- 
sand of  the  race  offered  their  lives  for  the  life 
of  the  Republic  as  willingly  and  as  bravely  even 
as  you,  in  what  you  used  to  call  the  'War  of 
Rebellion !'  You  generally  use  some  politer 
phrase  now,  but  you  know  what  I  mean.  Have 
they  received — has  the  race  received — from  the 
American  people  more  than  the  value  of  their 
blood?" 

"Candidly,  Prime,"  said  the  Major,  turning 
toward  him,  "I  don't  believe  they  have — nor 
half  that  amount.  But  I  never  thought  of  the 
matter  in  that  light  before.  I  must  come  in  and 
talk  it  over  with  you  again — some  day  when 
I  have  more  time.  I  want  to  know  what  you 
were  doing  at  Mission  Ridge,  too.  Good-by." 

The  good-natured  veteran  was  half-way  up 
the  stairs  before  he  had  finished  speaking.  His 
hearty  tone  showed  how  community  of  peril, — 
the  comradeship  of  battle, — fuses  lives  together 
so  closely  as  to  burn  away  even  the  barriers 
between  black  and  tvhite  manhood. 


IX. 

"IF  WISHES  WERE  FISHES." 

"T^OR  my  part  I  wish  every  'nigger'  could  be 

1      sent  back  to  Africa  where  they  belong," 

said    an  elegantly  dressed   young  man,  as    he 

flecked  the  ashes  off  his  cigar  and  took  his  seat 

in  one  of  the  chairs. 

"Now  you're  talking,"  rejoined  another,  a 
sallow,  narrow-faced  man  with  a  long  beard  who 
sat  scowling  behind  a  paper  he  had  pretended 
to  be  reading  in  another  chair.  "Here  I've 
been  waiting  the  best  part  of  an  hour  to  get 
my  boots  blacked.  If  the  weather  hadn't  been 
so  bad  I'd  have  gone  out  and  got  it  done  some- 
where else.  I  wish  I  had,  anyhow,  for  I've 
been  compelled  to  listen  to  the  most  disgust- 
ing tirade  on  the  wrongs  of  the  'nigger'  I  have 
ever  heard.  I  suppose  this  old  beggar  makes 
more  money  than  half  the  white  men  in  the 
city,  but  he  aint  satisfied — no  nigger  ever  will 
be — it's  the  nature  of  the  race — they're  always 
wanting  something  they  haven't  earned.  I 
go  farther  than  you,  sir,  and  wish  there  never 
had  been  a  nigger  in  the  country.  We  might 

TOO 


"IF  WISHES  WERE    FISHES"  101 

at  least  have  had  a  Christmas  then,  without 
being  compelled  to  listen  to  their  complaints. 
I  wish  as  Henry  Clay  did,  that  'the  foot  of  the 
Negro  had  never  rested  on  American  soil.'  " 

"Amen !"  said  Prime,  solemnly,  as  he  bent 
over  the  speaker's  foot.  This  fervent  response 
brought  a  laugh  from  the  bystanders. 

'  'Well  said,  old  mole,' "  quoted  one  who 
seemed  to  be  an  actor,  as  he  lighted  his  cigar 
and  drew  on  his  gloves. 

"Where  would  you  have  been,  I'd  like  to 
know,  if  that  had  been  the  case?"  asked  the  sal- 
low-faced man  angrily,  looking  down  upon  the 
old  man  as  he  shot  his  arms  back  and  forth 
each  side  of  the  boot  upon  the  form. 

"That  doesn't  make  any  difference,  sir.  I 
wish  there  had  never  been  any  '  niggers '  here 
all  the  same,"  answered  Prime.  "In  fact,  I 
wish  there  had  never  been  any  colored  people 
created." 

"It's  a  pity  the  Lord  didn't  consult  you  before 
he  made  them,"  said  the  young  man  with  a 
laugh. 

"It  certainly  would  have  saved  a  heap  of 
trouble  in  this  country,"  rejoined  the  other,  "and 
it  would  have  been  aheap  better  place  for  white 
people  to  live  in,  too.  Just  about  all  the 
trouble  we've  had  has  come  from  the  'niggers,'  " 

"And  the  Indians,"  suggested  Prime. 


102  FACTO LUS  PRIME. 

"Well,  yes,  we've  had  some  trouble  with 
them — not  much." 

"Except  the  trouble  of  killing  them,"  re- 
joined the  old  man. 

"Yes,  we've  had  to  kill  some.  They  couldn't 
expect  to  stand  across  the  path  of  civilization 
and  not  get  hurt." 

"Of  course  not,"  sneered  Prime  as  he  tapped 
his  customer's  boot  as  a  sign  that  his  work  was 
done,  and  straightening  up  looked  him  squarely 
in  the  eye,  "and  they  couldn't  expect  the  doc- 
trine, 'Do  unto  others  as  you  would  that  they 
should  do  to  you,'  should  regulate  the  white 
man's  relations  with  any  people  having  a  dusky 
skin." 

"Don't  quote  Scripture  to  me,  you  black  ras- 
cal !"  exclaimed  the  customer  as  he  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  stepped  off  the  dais.  "What 
would  your  whining,  thieving  race  have  known 
about  Scripture  or  religion  if  the  white  men  had 
not  brought  you  to  this  country?  Do  you 
think  the  Negroes  on  the  Congo  coast  are  any 
better  off  than  those  in  the  United  States? 
What  you  owe  the  white  man  is  infinitely 
more  than  his  indebtness  to  you.  It  can't 
be  estimated.  It  can  only  be  imagined  by 
considering  the  distance  between  the  Afri- 
can and  the  American  Negro  of  to-day.  That 
is  what  you  owe  to  Christianity  and  civil- 


"IF  WISHES  W 'ERE   FISHES."  103 

ization.  Do  you  hear,  you  ungrateful  black 
rascal?" 

"Oh,  I  hear,  sir,  I  hear,"  answered  Prime, 
coolly  brushing  the  gentleman's  coat.  "I  hear, 
and  I  don't  doubt  you  think  that  is  the  correct 
view.  I  don't  deny  that  it  was  a  great  advan- 
tage to  the  colored  race  to  be  brought  to  this 
country — greater  than  one  can  well  conceive. 
I  do  not  doubt  that  God  did  it ;  but  no  follower 
of  the  white  Christ  is  entitled  to  any  credit  for 
it.  It  was  not  done  because  He  commanded  it, 
for  His  glory,  nor  because  He  is  the  Saviour  of 
men.  It  was  not  done  for  our  advantage,  nor 
as  a  religious  duty,  nor  to  rescue  us  from  barbar- 
ism. It  was  done  for  the  same  reason  that  the 
Indian  was  killed — simply  because  it  was  to  the 
white  man's  advantage!  It  was  done  in  the 
name  of  the  white  Christ,  and  with  the  claim  of 
having  His  sanction  and  approval!  The  white 
man  has  no  more  right  to  commendation  for 
any  good  that  resulted  from  those  two  centuries 
and  a  half  of  wrong,  than  had  Pilate  or  Judas  to 
take  credit  for  the  salvation  that  came  through 
a  Crucified  Redeemer!  You  did  not  mean  to 
do  us  good,  and  it  is  only  intended  results  for 
which  the  white  race  can  claim  our  gratitude!" 

"People  ought  to  be  thankful  for  what  good 
they  receive  in  this  world,  whether  it  was  in- 
tended or  not,"  growled  the  other. 


1 04  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"Do  you  think  so?"  asked  Prime.  "Look 
at  Benny  there !  Whom  does  he  remind  you 
of?  Who  does  he  look  like?" 

"I  don't  know,"  responded  the  other,  care- 
lessly glancing  at  the  young  man. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  do.  You  know  there's  but  one 
family  in  the  country  that  has  those  features, 
and  you  know  very  well  what  name  that  family 
bears.  It's  a  good  family;  I  haven't  anything 
to  say  against  that,  and  there's  no  doubt  he'll 
be  a  smarter  man  for  having  such  blood  in  his 
veins,  but  does  he  owe  any  gratitude  to  those 
from  whom  it  was  derived?  Do  you  want  to 
claim  credit  for  that,  sir?" 

"Do  you  mean  to  insult  me?"  exclaimed  the 
customer  angrily,  as  he  saw  the  smile  that  came 
to  the  lips  of  thos'e  who  were  listening.  "I'll 
make  it  warm  for  you,  you  miserable  black 
nigger!  I'll  tell  the  proprietor  how  you  treat 
his  guests!" 

He  started  toward  the  stairs,  as  if  to  allow 
no  time  to  escape  before  the  execution  of  his 
threat. 

"I  don't  think  you  will,  Mr.  Collins,"  said 
Prime  coolly. 

The  customer  turned  sharply  on  his  heel,  and 
after  scrutinizing  the  old  man  for  a  moment  as 
he  bent  over  the  foot  of  another  patron,  asked  : 

"How  did  you  come  to  know  my  name?" 


"IF  WISHES  WERE    FISHES."  105 

"I'm  no  stranger  to  it,"  said  Prime  carelessly, 
sponging  off  the  boot  on  which  he  was  at  work. 
"You  didn't  s'pose  as  great  a  man  as  you  could 
come  up  North  without  bein'  realized,  did 
you?"  he  asked,  with  a  sarcastic  grin. 

"What  did  you  mean  by  saying  I  would  not 
tell  the  proprietor?"  asked  the  other  sternly. 

"Wai,  I  thought  you  mightn't  want  him  to 
tell  you  he'd  rather  part  with  you  than  try  to. 
get  along  without  me,"  said  Prime  suavely. 
"Besides  it  wouldn't  be  a  bit  of  use.  He's 
known  me  a  heap  longer'n  he  has  you,  and  I've 
known  you  a  heap  longer'n  I  have  him,  too,  as 
it  happens!" 

The  last  words  were  uttered  with  an  unmis- 
takable sneer. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  you  impudent 
rascal?"  exclaimed  the  stranger,  turning  threat- 
eningly upon  him. 

"Jes  what  I  say,  Mars  Ephrum  !"  said  Prime, 
straightening  up  and  facing  the  other  defiantly. 
"Ain't  no  harm  in  dat,  is  dey?  Ain't  nobody 
gwine  ter  get  killed  fer  'spressin'  his  'pinion 
'bout  here,  is  dar?" 

There  was  an  insulting  leer  in  the  words  em- 
phasized by  the  broad  negro  dialect  in  which 
they  were  uttered.  The  other  paused  and 
scrutinized  the  sphinx-like  face  before  him,  as 
if  seeking  to  find  some  recognizable  feature, 


106  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

Prime  smiled  scornfully. 

"Hope  yer  satisfied,  Mr.  Collins,"  he  said  with 
mock  reverence.  "Did  ye  think  ye'd  found  a 
lost  nigger?" 

"Don't  you  fool  with  me,  old  man !"  ex- 
claimed the  other,  taking  a  step  forward. 

Benny,  who  had  been  carefully  observant  of 
what  was  going  on,  now  left  his  work  and 
stepped  between  the  angry  disputants,  facing 
the  white  man. 

"Aha!  Stirred  up  de  young  cub,  haint  ye?" 
said  Prime  tauntingly.  "Why  don't  yer  hit 
him,  Mr.  Collins?  Looks  as  if  yer  had  a  right 
ter  lick  him,  don't  he  now,  gentlemen?" 

"There,  there!"  said  two  or  three,  accepting 
at  once  the  role  of  peacemaker.  "Don't  let's 
have  any  trouble !" 

"I'll  see  if  the  proprietor  of  this  house  will 
allow  his  guests  to  be  treated  in  this  manner!" 
said  Collins,  white  with  wrath,  turning  toward 
the  stairway. 

"I'd  go  easy  ef  I  was  you,  Mr.  Collins!"  said 
Prime  mockingly.  "They  hev  a  coroner  here ; 
an'  don't  have  to  wait  till  the  buzzards  hev 
picked  a  man's  bones  afore  they  find  out  he's 
dead!  Don't  be  fractious,  Mars  Ephrum,  her 
fergit  yer  latitude!  A  man's  apt  to  be  more 
in  the  way  atter  he's  dead  than  when  he's  alive, 
here  in  these  parts.  Ain't  no  swamps  handy, 
yer  know!" 


"IF  WISHES  WERE   FISHES."  107 

The  pallor  of  the  stranger's  face  grew 
deathlike  as  he  listened  to  the  words  the  old 
man  hurled  after  him.  He  rallied,  however,  and 
turned  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  to  say  in  a  mild 
enough  voice : 

"You  have  evidently  made  some  mistake ;  I 
will  see  you  again." 

"God  knows  I  hope  I  hev,  Mahrster,"  said  the 
old  man  with  sudden  emotion.  Benny  glanced 
up  at  his  employer  with  a  look  of  reverence  as 
he  resumed  his  work. 


X. 

A   BASIS   OF  COMPOSITION. 

TT7HAT  do  you  know  about  that  man?" 
VV    asked  one  of  those  who  stood  by. 

"Nothing  in  the  world,  Mr.  Hunt,  and  if  I 
did  it  wouldn't  be  worth  your  while  to  ask  about 
it.  There  ain't  any  need  for  detectives  now, 
when  a  nigger  disappears — not  in  this  country ! 
There  used  to  be  a  good  deal  of  business  of 
that  sort — profitable  too — but  since  they've 
quit  buying  and  selling  them,  it  don't  pay  for 
you  detectives  to  track  a  missing  nigger!" 

There  was  a  laugh  at  the  expense  of  the  in- 
quirer, whose  occupation  was  thus  disclosed. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  were  shooting 
in  the  dark?"  he  asked. 

"Well,  no,  not  exactly,"  answered  Prime.  "I 
happened  to  see  his  name  on  the  register  this 
morning,  and  he  had  a  letter  in  his  hand  when 
he  sat  down  here — that's  how  I  knew  his  given 
name.  I  remembered  there  was  some  talk 
about  the  disappearance  of  niggers  in  the  place 
he  hails  from,  some  few  years  ago — that's  all." 

"Well,  you  made  a  hit,"  said  the  detective 
carelessly  as  he  strolled  up  the  stairs. 
108 


A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  109 

A  moment  after  he  had  introduced  himself  to 
Mr.  Collins,  whom  he  found  in  the  reading- 
room,  and  placed  his  services  at  the  disposal  of 
that  irate  but  worthy  stranger.  His  proffer 
was  accepted  with  alacrity,  and  after  the  pay- 
ment of  a  liberal  fee  he  was  commissioned  to 
do  two  things:  first,  to  find  out  what  he  could 
about  Prime  and  what  he  meant  by  the  lan- 
guage he  had  used ;  second,  to  examine  the  re- 
cords and  learn  what  he  could  of  one  P.  P. 
Smith,  formerly  an  officer  of  the  — th  U.  S. 
Colored  Infantry.  The  man  himself,  Mr.  Col- 
lins thought,  was  dead,  but  it  was  important 
for  him  to  find  his  heirs. 

Thereupon,  the  detective  told  him  what  he 
had  learned  from  the  boot-black  after  Collins 
had  come  away.  The  latter  listened  with  a 
look  of  relief,  and  the  information  seemed  to 
give  him  a  very  high  opinion  of  the  value  of  the 
detective's  services,  for  he  added  of  his  own  ac- 
cord a  double  eagle  to  the  fee  he  had  already 
paid,  and  invited  the  detective  to  go  down  to 
the  oar  with  him  for  a  Christmas  dram.  Prime 
smiled  as  he  saw  the  feet  of  the  two  pass  un- 
steadily by  his  window  an  hour  afterward. 

"You  ought  not  to  take  such  liberties  with  a 
stranger,"  said  a  dignified-looking  man  who  sat 
in  Prime's  chair.  "Your  careless  remark  might 
have  ruined  the  reputation  of  a  very  good 


1 1 0  PA CTOL US  PRIME. 

man.  I  am,  as  you  know,  very  far  from  being 
an  apologist  for  the  wrongs  that  have  been  done 
your  race,  but,  fortunately,  it  is  but  a  small  por- 
tion of  the  Southern  people  who  are  responsible 
for,  or  approve  of,  such  things." 

The  gentleman's  tone  was  that  of  unques- 
tioned superiority. 

"No  doubt  you  know  all  about  the  Southern 
people,  Senator — most  Northern  men  do,"  said 
Prime  sharply,  "especially  those  in  Congress." 

"I  have  made  the  matter  a  special  study," 
rejoined  the  Senator  severely.  "Have  you 
read  my  speeches?" 

"No,"  answered  Prime  dryly,  "but  I  have 
heard — parts  of  them." 

"What  do  you  think  of  them?" — eagerly. 

"They  seemed  very  wonderful  to  me." 

"You  could  see  that  I  had  studied  the  sub- 
ject thoroughly?" 

"Did  you  hear  what  Professor  Wryneck  sa:d 
in  here  the  other  day?" 

"No  indeed,"  the  Senator  rejoined  with  a 
smile ;  "something  good  no  doubt ;  he  is  a  very 
learned  man." 

"He  said  he  had  been  studying  the  moon  for 
forty  years,  and  didn't  know  as  much  about  it 
now,  as  a  perfect  stranger  would  know  if  he  could 
just  stand  on  its  surface  five  minutes." 

"And  you  think — " 


A  8ASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  ill 

"I  think,"  interrupted  Prime,  "that  even  a 
'nigger,'  who  studies  Southern  life  every  day  he 
lives,  at  first  hand  and  short  range,  is  apt  to 
know  more  about  it  than  a  Northern  man  who 
never  gets  nigh  enough  to  it  to  feel  it.  There 
are  some  things,  Senator,  that  a  man  can't  learn 
from  reports.  He  must  see  them,  feel  them, 
for  himself!" 

"But  one  must  rely  upon  testimony,"  urged 
the  legislator. 

"No  doubt,  but  he  should  hear  all  the  testi- 
mony and  hear  it  fairly;  and  then  he  must 
study  the  witnesses  as  well  as  the  question." 

"Well,  we  wont  discuss  that,"  said  the  Sena- 
tor good-naturedly,  "but  you  must  admit  that 
the  bill  providing  for  'National  Aid  to  Educa- 
tion' is  a  step  in  the  right  direction." 

"You  can't  expect  a  'nigger'  to  know  much 
about  such  things,  sir,"  answered  Prime  eva- 
sively. 

"Oh,  you  can't  escape  in  that  way,"  laughed 
the  Senator.  "I  see  you  don't  like  it.  Now 
tell  me  why.  You  were  complaining  a  while 
ago,  that  the  country  did  nothing  to  compen- 
sate your  people  for  enforced  ignorance.  Now 
here's  a  measure  designed  to  accomplish  that 
very  thing  and  yet  you  shake  your  head  and 
look  dissatisfied  with  it.  Now  tell  me  the 
reason." 


.112  .        PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

"Well,  Senator,  let  me  ask  you  candidly,  is 
that  the  purpose  of  the  bill?" 

"Well,  not  professedly,  of  course,  but  inci- 
dentally— ' 

"Don't  you  think,  Senator,  that  it  is  about 
time  the  country  ceased  to  make  the  Negro 
merely  an  'incident,'  except  when  it  does  him 
injustice?  There  used  to  be  no  difficulty  about 
dealing  with  him  directly.  Nobody  ever  held 
the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  unconstitutional." 

"Well,  this  bill  is  intended  to  promote  the 
education  of  all — white  and  black  alike,  accord- 
ing to  their  illiteracy.  If  there  is  an  illiterate 
Negro,  the  State  gets  a  sum  certain,  to  be  used 
in  the  education  of  that  Negro's  child  or  the 
child  of  some  other  Negro,  and  the  same  in  case 
of  an  ignorant  white  man.  It  is  just  as  fair  for 
the  one  as  for  the  other.  You  don't  want  any- 
thing more,  do  you?  If  there  are  more  colored 
than  white  illiterates  in  any  State,  your  race 
will  get  the  greater  share  of  advantage — at  least 
until  an  equilibrium  is  produced.  What  more 
can  you  ask?" 

"That  would  be  good  enough,  if  true ;  but  it's 
just  too  good  to  believe,  Senator,"  said  Prime 
pleasantly. 

"But  I  assure  you  it  is  all  true,"  urged  the 
legislator.  "Can't  you  accept  my  statements?" 

"I've  no  doubt  you  think  so,  and  am  sure  the 


A  j&ASfS  OF  COMPOS/T/OM  H3 

bill  is  intended  to  do  that  very  thing.  But  it's 
just  there  you've  made  your  mistake.  Any 
'nigger'  could  tell  you  it  won't  do  it.  Who  is 
to  distribute  and  apply  this  money,  Senator?" 

"Why,  the  States,  of  course.  The  general 
government  has  no  power — 

"I  understand,"  interrupted  Prime,  "the  gen- 
eral government  is  always  short  of  power  where 
a  'nigger'  is  to  be  benefited  even  'incidentally.' 
Who  controls  the  States  where  the  Negroes  are, 
and  where  the  black  illiterates  you  wish  to 
benefit  are  to  be  found?" 

"Why,  the  people — of  course." 

"Do  they?" 

"Well,  Congress  has  nothing  to  do  with 
that — just  now,  at  any  rate,"  said  the  Senator 
pettishly. 

"Well,  we  have,"  said  Prime,  straightening 
himself  up  ;  "we  have  suffered  injustice  enough 
and  do  not  care  to  advertise  for  any  more. 
You  knoiv  that  in  the  States  where  our  people 
equal  or  even  exceed  the  whites  in  number,  they 
would  have  no  voice  in  the  control  or  applica- 
tion of  this  munificent  bequest,  according  to  the 
plan  of  this  bill,  and  you  know  that  no  people 
were  ever  good  enough  to  be  trusted  with  the 
interests  of  a  powerless  and  subordinate  race. 
You  say  you  are  giving  a  fair  proportion  of  this 
sum  to  our  people,  and  the  world  will  hold  us 


H4  PA  C TOL  US  PRIME. 

responsible  for  proportionate  progress;  yet 
you  put  the  fund  where  we  cannot  control  itf 
nor  any  part  of  it,  and  where  every  principle  of 
human  nature  shows  you  we  shall  not  get  a  fair 
share  of  its  benefits.  You  would  not  offer  to 
treat  us  in  this  way  if  we  were  not  'niggers' !" 

"But  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Prime — " 

"Just  let  me  say  one  word  more,  Senator. 
You  have  the  Record  and  the  press  to  give  cir- 
culation to  your  ideas.  I  have  only  the  men 
who  sit  in  my  chairs  or  who  are  waiting  for 
places  in  them,  to  talk  to.  This  bill  which  you 
think  such  a  fine  thing,  to  my  mind  is  only  a 
plan  for  using  a  'nigger's'  fingers  to  pull  chest- 
nuts out  of  the  treasury  for  the  benefit  of 
the  white  people  of  those  States !" 

"How  can  that  be  when  one  counts  the  same 
as  the  other — a  black  man  just  as  much  as  a 
white  one?"  asked  the  Senator  with  evident 
annoyance. 

"Easy  enough.  You  haven't  followed  your 
fund — haven't  traced  it  into  the  schoolhouse — 
or  you'd  see  it  yourself.  In  those  States  the 
public  schools  are  not  open  to  all — some  are 
for  the  white  race  and  some  for  the  black 
people." 

"But  the  bill  provides  that  they  shall  be  put 
on  the  same  footing." 

"Very  true;  but  look  at  its  operation.     Say 


A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  115 

a  million  dollars  a  year  goes  to  Virginia — that's 
about  the  sum  proposed,  I  think.  Two-thirds 
of  her  illiterates  are  colored,  but  only  about 
one-third  of  her  population.  That  is  true, 
isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  approximately." 

"Of  course,  I  cannot  give  the  figures  as  you 
would  ;  but  now  answer  me  this  question :  Why 
would  Virginia  receive  this  money  ?  Two-thirds 
would  be  given  on  account  of  colored  illiteracy, 
wouldn't  it?" 

"Certainly." 

"Now,  where  would  it  go?" 

"Why,  to  the  colored  schools,  of  course." 

"Let  us  see.  How  is  the  money  distributed 
to  the  counties  from  the  State  treasury?" 

"According  to  the  population — per  capita,  as 
we  call  it." 

"And  how  to  the  school  districts?" 

"In  the  same  way." 

"Exactly." 

"Well,  two-thirds  of  the  population  is  white, 
isn't  it?" 

"Certainly." 

"Then  the  white  schools  would  get  two-thirds 
of  the  fund,  wouldn't  they?" 

"I  suppose  so,  but — ' 

"Hold  on!  Then  the  United  States,  by  this 
bill,  would  give  two  dollars  to  cure  white  illit- 


1 1 6  f>A  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

eracy  for  every  one  it  gives  to  cure  colored 
illiteracy,  though  there  are  as  many  again  col- 
ored as  white  illiterates.  Isn't  this  rather  un- 
fair even  for  'incidental'  justice?" 

"But  what  would  you  have?  We  cannot 
undo  all  the  wrongs  of  the  past  at  once !" 

"True  enough,  Senator;  but  it  is  better  to  do 
nothing  than  add  a  new  wrong  to  the  long 
category  of  the  old  ones." 

"The  fact  that  a  man  is  black  does  not  prove 
that  he  knows  what  is  best  for  the  colored  race," 
petulantly. 

"Very  true,  sir;  but  it's  a  universal  rule  that 
the  man  who  wears  a  shoe  knows  best  where 
it  pinches." 

"But  he  may  not  know  how  to  mend  it." 

"Very  likely,  nor  will  the  cobbler,  until  he 
learns  just  where  it  rubs.  I  know  what  it  is  to 
be  a  'nigger,'  Senator,  and  you  don't ;  and  you 
never  will  be  able  to  devise  an  efficient  remedy 
for  our  ills  until  you  have  learned  just  what 
that  means  !  " 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,"  said  the  Senator  in 
a  dissatisfied  tone,  as  he  turned  thoughtfully 
away.  "It's  a  very  difficult  problem  to  deal 
with.  We  try  to  be  as  considerate  and  charita- 
ble as  we  can ;  but  it  seems  as  if  the  more  we 
did  for  the  colored  man  the  more  dissatisfied  he 
becomes." 


A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  H7 

"Suppose  you  try  a  little  justice,  Senator; 
Charity  is  a  good  thing,  but  I  think  a  pound  of 
justice  would  go  further  than  a  ton  of  charity." 

"But  what  is  justice?"  said  the  Senator. 
"That  is  the  question." 

"With  submission,  sir,  I  do  not  think  that 
ought  to  be  the  question.  The  question  ought 
to  be  'What  is  injustice?  ' ' 

"I  do  not  see  any  difference." 

"Perhaps  there  is  none;  but  it  seemed  to  me 
that  to  do  justice  might  mean  to  make  com- 
pensation for  the  past,  which  cannot  be  ex- 
pected ;  while  not  to  do  injustice,  pertains  only 
to  the  future  and  is  always  possible." 

"But  I  thought  you  were  speaking  of  the 
matter  of  debit  and  credit?" 

"That  was  not  my  idea,  sir.  A  gentleman 
who  believes  that  political  society  is  merely  a 
business  association  for  business  purposes,  to  be 
managed  on  purely  business  principles,  proposed 
the  inquiry.  So  far  as  our  people  are  con- 
cerned, it  serves  only  to  show  that  they  are  en- 
titled to  consideration  at  the  hands  of  the 
American  Republic  —  should  not  be  treated 
with  farther  injustice,  I  mean." 

"Well,  how  shall  we  avoid  injustice  in  this 
matter?  We  cannot  compel  the  Southern 
states  to  admit  colored  children  to  their  white 
schools," 


1 1 8  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"That  is  very  true ;  and  if  you  had  the  power 
it  would  be  folly  to  attempt  to  exercise  it. 
Prejudice,  whether  right  or  wrong,  can  rarely 
be  legislated  out  of  existence,  and  the  schools 
of  the  South  would  be  valueless  to  the  colored 
people  if  they  were  opened  by  compulsion  to 
them." 

"How,  then,  can  we  prevent  the  injustice  of 
which  you  complain?" 

"It  seems  to  me  so  easy  that  I  wonder  any 
one  should  think  it  difficult.  The  fund,  it  is 
admitted,  should  be  distributed  to  the  States 
according  to  their  illiteracy;  why  not  distribute 
it  direct  to  the  counties,  or  school-districts,  ac- 
cording to  the  same  plan?" 

"The  States  have  a  right  to  distribute  the 
school  funds  as  they  see  fit." 

"Their  own  funds,  of  course ;  no  one  ques- 
tions that.  But  a  gift  may  be  conditioned," 
interposed  Benny,  "and  you  have  already  at- 
tached conditions  to  this  gift  looking  to  its 
forfeiture  in  case  of  non-compliance." 

"That  is  true,"  said  the  Senator. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Prime,  "very  easy  and 
very  natural  to  go  a  little  farther.  What  is 
the  purpose  of  the  act?" 

"Why,  to  promote  education." 

"I  thought  it  was  to  prevent  or  cure  illit- 
eracy." 


A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  119 

"Are  they  not  the  same  things?" 

"Not  in  this  case :  It  is  claimed,  and  with 
some  show  of  reason,  that  the  Nation  has  no 
right  to  provide  schools  or  education  for  the 
sake  of  the  individual.  I  have  heard  the  mat- 
ter discussed  a  good  deal,  for  I  always  go  to  the 
Capitol  when  it  is  coming  up.  Of  course,  the 
argument  cannot  be  sustained  by  the  history  of 
the  government.  You  have  them  there.  Edu- 
cation as  a  personal  advantage — an  individual 
luxury,  so  to  speak — has  been  aided  and  pro- 
moted in  many  States — all  of  them,  in  fact,  by 
National  grant.  But  in  this  case,  I  take  it,  it 
is  the  necessity  of  the  government,  rather  than 
the  advantage  of  the  citizen,  that  is  to  be  con- 
sidered. In  other  words,  the  government  pro- 
poses to  provide  for  the  enlightenment  of  the 
citizen  for  the  same  reason  that  it  builds 
forts  and  ships,  prepares  charts  and  constructs 
levees, — simply  in  order  that  the  Republic  may 
derive  benefit  thereby — may  receive  no  damage 
from  their  ignorance." 

"Of  course:  the  government  proposes  to 
aid  in  the  education  of  the  citizen  because  it 
make's  him  a  more  valuable  element  of  the 
National  life,"  said  the  legislator,  with  sen- 
tentious positiveness. 

"Is  it  not  rather  that  he  may  be  a  less  dan- 
gerous element?  Does  not  the  whole  theory  of 


120  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

National  aid  to  education  rest  on  the  idea  that 
the  ignorant  voter  is  a  source  of  actual  peril — 
less  likely  to  know  what  he  ought  to  do  and 
quite  powerless  to  do  even  what  he  may 
perceive  ought  to  be  done?" 

"Of  course,  there  is  something  in  that." 

"Is  not  that  the  real  ground  of  the  Nation's 
right  to  interfere?  Has  not  the  Nation  the 
right,  in  order  to  provide  for  the  'general  wel- 
fare of  the  United  States,'  to  declare  that  every 
man  who  holds  a  ballot  shall  be  enabled  to 
read  it?  And  is  not  this  the  sole  ground  of 
National  aid  to  common  schools — not  to  edu- 
cate the  citizen  for  his  own  advantage,  but  to 
disarm  the  ignorant  voter  for  the  general  ad- 
vantage?" 

"Certainly,"  said  the  Senator,  graciously, 
"that  is  one  reason ;  but  it  is  also  good  policy 
from  the  other  point  of  view.  An  educated 
citizen  is  a  better,  a  more  profitable  ingredient 
of  society  than  the  ignorant  one  can  be." 

"To  the  State  he  may  be:  to  the  United 
States,  I  cannot  see  that  it  makes  any  appre- 
ciable difference.  The  Nation  does  not  regu- 
late morals  nor  provide  for  individual  efficiency 
or  success.  It  would,  no  doubt,  be  a  good 
thing  if  every  man  were  compelled  to  master 
some  trade  or  manual  calling,  but  the  Nation 
has  no  power  to  provide  that  they  shall  be 


A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  12 1 

so  taught.  The  Nation  has,  however,  an  un- 
doubted right  to  provide  for  its  own  safety, 
and  in  a  republic,  safety  may  very  often  depend 
on  the  ability  of  the  voter  to  read  and  write. 
The  purpose  of  National  aid  to  education  in 
the  various  states,  therefore,  is  simply  to  cure 
illiteracy." 

"Well,  suppose  it  is?  How  does  that  affect 
the  plan  of  distribution  of  the  fund?" 

"In  this  way,  as  ifr  seems  to  me.  The  Nation 
says  to  the  State,  after  taking  a  census  of  its 
people :  Fifty-one  per  cent,  of  your  voters  are 
unable  to  read  or  write.  This  is  a  dangerous 
state  of  affairs.  Now,  I  will  give  two  dollars 
apiece  for  each  one  of  your  illiterate  popula- 
tion, in  order  to  help  cure  this  evil.  But,  in 
order  that  I  may  feel  assured  that  the  fund 
will  be  applied  to  this  specific  purpose  and  in 
the  most  effective  way,  I  must  attach  certain 
conditions  to  the  grant.  First,  the  remedy 
must  be  applied  directly  to  the  disease.  In 
one-half  your  territory  there  is  no  illiteracy. 
Now  this  fund  must  not  be  applied  to  schools 
in  that  part  of  the  State,  but  must  be  applied 
to  each  county  in  proportion  to  its  illiteracy, 
and  in  each  school-district  according  to  its 
illiteracy." 

"That  would  not  be  a  bad  idea,"  said  the 
Senator  thoughtfully. 


122  PA CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"You  must  remember,  sir,"  continued  the  old 
man,  "that  in  this  respect  the  South  is  not  like 
the  North.  The  country  counties  of  the  North 
are  by  far  the  more  intelligent — have  less  illit- 
eracy, I  mean.  At  the  South,  it  is  just  the 
other  way ;  the  cities  have  a  smaller  propor- 
tion of  illiterates  than  the  country." 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?" 

"You  have  only  to  examine  your  own  figures 
to  prove  it.  If  you  were  acquainted  with  the 
South,  you  would  not  need  any  figures.  The 
result  of  the  system  proposed  by  the  bill  as  it 
stands,  you  see,  would  be  to  give  the  counties 
where  there  was  the  smallest  proportion  of 
illiteracy  the  largest  proportion  of  aid  for  their 
schools." 

"It  does  seem  so,  indeed." 

"The  futility  of  this  plan  is  seen  all  the  more 
readily  when  you  apply  it  to  the  two  races. 
Two-thirds  of  the  fund  would  be  given  because 
two-thirds  of  the  illiterates  are  colored,  but  two- 
thirds  of  the  whole  population  are  white. 
That  is,  under,  the  present  plan  the  government 
would  give  to  Virginia,  say  two  dollars  in  aid  of 
education,  for  every  illiterate  white  or  black. 
Now  two-thirds  of  the  illiteracy  being  black 
and  two-thirds  of  the  population  white,  if  the 
State  distributes  this  fund  per  capita,  not  only 
will  the  more  intelligent  counties  get  the  larger 


A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  123 

proportion,  but  the  white  schools  will  get  two 
dollars  for  each  white  illiterate  and  the  colored 
schools  only  one  dollar  for  each  colored  illit- 
erate." 

"Oh,  that  cannot  be !"  exclaimed  the  Sena- 
tor. 

"I  have  never  believed  that  was  what  your 
co-workers  desired,  but  that  is  certainly  the 
result  of  the  bill  to  which  you  refer.  That  is 
why  I  said  it  was  unjust." 

"And  how  would  you  remedy  that  injus- 
tice?" 

"Simply  by  providing  that  the  fund  should 
be  distributed  to  the  counties,  or  better  still  to 
townships,  according  to  the  number  of  illiter- 
ates in  each,  and  wherever  separate  schools  for 
the  two  races  are  maintained,  every  dollar 
granted  on  account  of  white  illiteracy  should 
be  applied  in  aid  of  white  schools,  and  every 
one  granted  on  account  of  colored  illiteracy 
should  be  applied  to  the  maintenance  of  col- 
ored schools." 

"That  would  seem  to  be  feasible  and  just." 

"That  would  not  be  unjust,'"  answered  Prime. 
"If  the  National  government  will  not  distribute 
this  fund  directly  to  the  schools  as  is  done  with 
the  Peabody  Fund,  which  would  be  much  the 
cheaper,  safer,  and  more  effective  method,  let  it 
at  least  save  our  people  the  mockery  of  using 


124  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

their  past  wrongs  as  a  cloak  and  an  excuse  for 
fresh  ones." 

"  But  your  people,  hundreds  and  thousands 
of  them,  have  asked  for  this  very  measure  which 
you  denounce." 

"  So  they  have,  sir ;  can  you  blame  them  ? 
Did  you  ever  see  the  inside  of  a  prison-pen 
during  the  war,  in  which  men  had  been  kept 
on  half-rations  for  months  ?  " 

"  I  never  had  that  privilege,"  said  the  Sena- 
tor coolly,  "  and  I  do  not  think  any  good  can 
come  from  alluding  to  such  things." 

"  It's  easy  to  forget  another's  suffering. 
But  I'm  not  blaming  anybody.  It  don't  make 
any  difference  whether  it  was  right  or  wrong, 
necessary  or  unnecessary,  so  far  as  my  point  is 
concerned.  You  say  you  never  had  that  '  privi- 
lege.' Well,  I  did,  and  counted  it  a  real  privi- 
lege, strange  as  that  may  seem.  It  is  the 
grandest  thing  I  ever  knew — those  men  who 
did  not  know  who  might  see  the  morning, 
singing  in  quivering  tones  as  the  sun  went 
down :  '  As  He  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us 
die  to  make  men  free  ! '  Perhaps  that  is  why 
I  haven't  forgotten  it.  But  what  I  want  to  say 
is,  that  I  suppose  you  won't  deny  that  a  com- 
pany of  those  prisoners  of  war, — educated 
white  men,  you  know, — were  as  good  judges 
of  what  they  needed  and  ought,  in  common 


A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  125 

right,  to  receive  as  the  average  colored 
man  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,"  irritably.  "  What  is  the 
use  of  asking  such  a  question  ?  " 

"Don't  be  angry,  sir;  I  mean  no  offense. 
What  I  want  to  say,  is  merely  that  no  one 
who  has  seen  some  thousands  of  men  who  have 
hardly  had  a  full  meal  for  months  at  feeding- 
time,  will  ever  forget  the  ravening  fierceness 
with  which  they  fought  and  scrambled  for 
even  the  crumbs  and  shreds  of  food  that  fell 
upon  the  ground  in  the  distribution  of  their 
meager  supply." 

"  Very  naturally,  I  should  suppose,"  said 
the  legislator. 

"  Of  course  ;  but  would  any  one  claim  that, 
because  men  were  eager  to  get  the  scraps, 
they  thought  these  were  all  they  required." 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  Well,  that  is  the  way  with  the  colored  peo- 
ple. They  have  been  starved  so  long  and  are 
so  eager  for  knowledge  that  they  are  willing 
and  glad  to  get  even  the  scraps  they  hope  they 
may  receive  by  this  measure.  Besides,  a  good 
many  of  them  have  despaired  of  anything  like 
justice.  They  say  the  nation  will  never  do  any- 
thing for  education  unless  it  gives  the  white 
man  two  dollars  for  every  one  given  to  the 
'  nigger.'  So  they  say,  '  Give  us  the  scraps  ! ' 


126  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

There  are  a  good  many  more  who  actually  be- 
lieve the  claim  which  has  been  so  assiduously 
put  forth,  that  nothing  more  can  be  done; 
they  have  come  to  believe  the  argument  made 
solely  for  the  purpose  of  depriving  them  of  the 
advantage  while  pretending  to  accord  them 
right,  that  if  the  nation  gives  a  dollar  toward 
the  enlightenment  of  the  people  it  must  allow 
each  State  to  declare  just  how  the  portion 
assigned  to  its  people  shall  be  applied.  They 
think  they  cannot  get  anything  better,  and 
so  say  :  '  Even  half  a  loaf  is  better  than  no 
bread.'  " 

"  You  do  not  believe  the  advocates  of  this 
measure  are  sincere,  then  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  question  that,  at  all ;  but  they  do 
not  recognize  the  fact  that  this  is  a  matter  of 
right  rather  than  one  of  sentiment.  If  there 
were  no  question  of  color  in  it,  there  would  be 
no  difficulty  about  distributing  the  fund  to 
the  schools  of  each  township.  It  is  a  method, 
simple,  cheap,  equitable,  and  makes  any  com- 
plication with  State  authority  impossible. 
But  the  trouble  is,  it  gives  just  as  much  for 
each  colored  illiterate  as  for  each  white  illite- 
rate;  and  the  only  way  to  avoid  that  just 
and  righteous  division  of  the  fund,  if  this 
plan  were  adopted,  would  be  to  open  the 
schools  of  a  State  to  both  races.  But  the 


A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  127 

people  of  the  South  say,  in  effect  :  '  Such  a 
thing  cannot  be  thought  of, — we  would  rather 
have  no  schools  at  all.  The  schools  are  ours; 
we  are  willing  to  let  the  '  nigger  '  have  what  we 
think  he  needs,  and  what  we  can  afford.  We 
have  taken  his  labor  to  educate  our  sons  and 
daughters  for  two  hundred  years  and  are  will- 
ing to  be  liberal  with  him  now  ;  but  it  wont 
do  to  have  him  think  that  he  has  a  right  to 
control  his  own  schools,  or  have  any  more  for 
their  support  than  we  see  fit  to  give  him. 
This  is  our  right;  this  is  necessary  to  enable 
us  to  control  the  'nigger.'  So  if  the  National 
government  wants  to  contribute  toward  the 
cure  of  illiteracy  among  the  'niggers,'  it  must 
put  two  dollars  into  white  schools  for  every 
one  that  goes  into  colored  schools,  and  admit 
our  right  to  control  the  application  of  that  one!  ' 
"  And  you  would  admit  this  claim  rather 
than  put  yourself  in  the  attitude  of  demanding 
justice  for  the  Negro,  or  have  the  government 
recognize  the  fact  that  he  is  entitled  to  be 
justly  treated.  That  is  all  there  is  of  it.  You 
know  it  is  not  right,  but  you  make  yourself 
the  instrument  of  wrong, — this  unnecessary 
and  inexcusable  wrong, — simply  because  you 
believe  the  people  of  the  North  will  never 
consent  that  justice  shall  be  done  the  Negro  as 
long  as  the  white  man  of  the  South  desires  to 


128  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

hold  him  in  subjection.  Having  made  him  a 
voter,  you  refuse  not  only  to  protect  him  in 
the  exercise  of  that  right,  but  are  unwilling 
even  that  he  should  learn  to  protect  himself." 

"You  have  a  poor  opinion  of  Northern  sen- 
timent.  You  should  remember  what  Northern 
charity  has  done  for  your  race,"  said  the  Sena- 
tor sternly. 

"  No  colored  man  can  forget  it,  sir,"  said  the 
old  man  fervently.  "  It  is  the  conscience  of  a 
great  people,  rebuking  the  sycophancy  of  a 
great  fcation.  The  charity  of  the  North  is  as 
boundless  as  its  faith.  It  is  its  want  of  justice 
of  which  we  complain.  Its  '  long-suffering 
kindness  '  is  inexhaustible,  so  long,  especially, 
as  somebody  else  does  the  suffering,  and  it  is 
only  required  to  be  kind.  It  does  not  think  it 
very  hard  for  the  Negro  to  suffer  injustice, — he 
is  used  to  it,  you  see ;  but  they  think  it  would 
be  very  hard  upon  the  white  people  of  the 
South  to  be  compelled  to  treat  the  Negro 
justly,  or  even  to  see  him  receive  justice  from 
the  Nation, — for  they  are  not  used  to  that.  So 
the  very  same  charity  that  pities  our  weak- 
ness, becomes  the  shield  and  excuse  for  farther 
injustice." 

"There  may  be  something  in  that,"  rejoined 
the  Senator  musingly. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  a  little  hot  against  the  North 


A  BASIS  OF  COMPOSITION.  129 

in  this  matter,  because  there  seems  no  reason- 
able motive  to  excuse  its  course.  I  can  under- 
stand the  motive  of  a  Southern  white  man  in 
opposing  National  Aid  to  education  in  any 
form,  and  especially  in  a  form  that  would  do 
justice  to  the  Negro  or  decrease  in  any  degree 
his  dependence  on  the  Southern  white  man. 
He  wants  to  keep  him  a  menial.  He  is  profit- 
able in  that  position,  and  the  degree  of  profit 
depends  on  his  helplessness.  He  has  the  same 
interest  in  keeping  him  dependent  that  the 
slaveowner  had  in  slavery, — it  means  cheap 
labor,  and  cheap  labor  means  profit.  The 
South  would  never  have  rebelled  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  profit  there  was  in  slavery.  It 
may  have  been  unprofitable  to  the  State, — bad 
policy  for  the  people, — but  for  the  man  who 
owned  the  slave,  it  was  a  good  thing.  But  for 
this,  not  a  shot  would  ever  have  been  fired  to 
save  it  from  extinction.  I  can  understand 
such  a  motive  and,  in  a  sense,  excuse  it.  But 
I  can  see  no  reason  why  the  North  should  be 
unwilling  to  do  plain  and  simple  justice  to 
the  Negro  except  the  mere  fact  of  his  color; 
I  do  not  believe  there  is  any  other." 

"I  cannot  agree  with  your  ideas,  in  regard 
to  this  '  great  National  charity,'  "  said  the  Sena- 
tor as  he  started  to  go,  "  but  I  must  admit 
there  is  a  good  deal  of  force  in  what  you  say." 


13°  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"Don't  call  it  charity,  please,"  said  Prime, 
gazing  earnestly  after  him.  "  It  is  a  great  de- 
fensive policy  on  which  the  peace  and  welfare 
of  the  United  States  are  certain  some  time  to 
depend." 


XL 

THE   FEET  OF  TWO  ADMINISTRATIONS. 

IT  was  past  noon,  and  the  crowd  that  had 
thronged  the  bootblack's  stand  in  the  base- 
ment of  the  "Best  House"  all  the  morning  had 
disappeared.  Pactolus  Prime  had  counted  up 
his  morning's  receipts.  His  assistant  had  been 
out  for  the  luncheon  which  he  always  took  at  a 
modest  "dairy"  upon  the  side  street,  where  the 
clerks  from  the  Treasury  go  to  get  a  glass  of 
"pure  country  milk,"  to  wash  down  the  "snacks" 
they  bring  from  home.  Returning,  he  had  swept 
the  floor;  examined  the  brushes  and  filled  some 
of  the  bottles  out  of  a  larger  one  in  another 
drawer ;  in  short,  put  the  stand  in  order.  His  em- 
ployer sat  in  one  of  the  customer's  chairs,  now 
turned  so  as  to  face  the  window,  watching  the 
people  or  rather  the  feet,  that  went  by.  The 
young  man  took  a  book  out  of  one  of  the  drawers 
and  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  dais.  One  who 
was  versed  in  such  matters  would  have  known 
at  a  glance  that  it  was  a  law  book,  though  it 
had  been  carefully  covered  with  heavy  brown 
paper,  either  to  disguise  its  character  or  to  pre- 
131 


132  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

vent  its  becoming  soiled.  He  opened  it  and 
allowed  the  leaves  to  fly  back  as  they  slipped 
through  his  thumb  and  finger,  noting  regretfully 
one  chapter  after  another,  and  stopping  now 
and  then  to  read  a  few  lines.  At  last  he  closed 
the  volume  and  looked  resolutely  up  at  his  em- 
ployer. The  old  man  had  been  very  nervous 
and  excited  all  the  morning.  He  looked  very 
weary  now  as  he  watched  the  feet  of  the  pass- 
ers-by and  commented  to  himself  in  an  under- 
tone upon  their  possessors.  He  had  coughed  a 
good  deal,  too,  and  the  assistant's  look  showed 
the  anxiety  he  felt,  as  he  scanned  his  master's 
face. 

"Mr.  Prime,"  he  said  at  length. 

"What  is  it,  boy?"  answered  the  other,  not 
removing  his  eyes  from  the  thronging  feet  upon 
the  pavement,  and  continuing  the  comments  he 
had  been  making  to  himself  in  an  undertone. 
"I  think  I  never  saw  so  many  badly  shod  peo- 
ple on  a  Christmas  here  in  Washington  in  my 
life,  Benny.  It's  hardly  two  months  since  the 
election,  you  see,  and  only  two  more  to  a 
change  of  administration.  There's  lots  of 
clerks  who  gave  one  or  two  months'  wages  to 
keep  the  party  in  power,  and  they  will  have  to 
pinch  and  starve  to  get  even  before  they  are 
turned  out ;  and  the  very  first  place  they  be- 
gin to  economize — they  and  their  families — is 


THE  FEET  OF  TWO  ADMINISTRATIONS.    133 

in  their  shoes.  Nine  out  of  ten  of  them  black 
their  own  boots  now,  because  they  are  ashamed 
to  let  a  professional  see  the  condition  of  their 
footgear.  The  Congressmen  who  were  de- 
feated, too,  are  perfectly  reckless  about  their 
appearance.  None  of  them  have  their  wives 
here  this  winter.  No  woman  ever  wants  to  go 
to  Washington  for  a  last  term.  Well,  things 
will  begin  to  hum  about  February.  I  shall 
have  to  put  on  one  or  two  more  hands  if  there 
is  an  extra  session.  I  wonder  where  I  shall 
get  them?" 

"If  you  please,  sir,  I  think  I  should  like  to 
stay." 

"What !  I  thought  you  wanted  to  be  a  law- 
yer," said  Prime,  turning  sharply  on  his  assistant. 

"Mr.  Prime,"  answered  the  young  man,  "I 
want  to  do  what  is  best  for  our  race — that's 
what  we  ought  all  to  think  of  now,  before  any- 
thing else — and  I  am  sure  you  know  what  that 
is  better  than  I." 

"Every  one  to  his  trade,  Benny.  I  was 
made  for  a  bootblack,  you  see — or  thought  I 
was  until  to-day.  Never  made  a  customer  mad 
before  in  my  life.  It's  been  a  good  business, 
too.  I've  made  money  at  it,  Benny,  more 
than  people  think.  In  the  whole  time  I've 
been  here,  the  poorest  month  I've  had  has 
netted  me  more  than  a  hundred  dollars,  and 


134  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

I  have  gone  as  high  as  four  hundred  clear,  in 
thirty  days.  It's  brought  chances,  too,  that 
have  been  worth  more  than  the  business,  and  I 
haven't  neglected  them.  I  thought  if  I  made 
money,  perhaps  I  might  get  to  be  something 
more  than  a  '  nigger.'  But  'taint  no  use, 
Benny." 

"That's  mother's  notion,  too,"  said  Benny 
with  a  sigh,  "she  says  it's  no  use  to  try  and  get 
rid  of  the  taint — that  a  single  drop  of  colored 
blood  will  curse  forever." 

"Well,  it  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  shake  off, 
even  for  one  as  white  as  you." 

"I've  found  that  out." 

"Already?" 

"Long  before  I  came  here :  I  wanted  to  be  a 
cash-boy,  you  know/' 

"In  a  store,  yes:  nice  place,  and  you  as  neat, 
well-mannered  a  lad  as  could  be  found  in 
the  city.  Well-educated  and  good-tempered, 
too, — just  the  kind  of  boy  for  such  a  place." 

"They  seemed  to  think  so — till  they  heard 
mother  was  a  colored  woman,  or  so  consid- 
ered by  some  of  our  neighbors." 

"And  they  wouldn't  take  you?" 

"Turned  me  off,  sir;  said  it  wasn't  the  color 
but  the  name." 

"Nigger?" 

"Of  course." 


THE  FEET  OF  TWO  ADMINISTRATIONS.    135 

"They  were  right,  Benny;  you  must  be  a 
white  man." 

"I  hate  the  very  thought." 

"Don't  say  that,  Benny.  Take  the  world  as 
it  comes.  It's  kicking  at  what  can't  be  helped 
that  makes  most  of  the  trouble  in  the  world. 
You're  white.  You  are  not  responsible  for  it ; 
and  can't  change  the  fact,  but  you  are  respon- 
sible for  the  use  or  misuse  you  make  of  it. 
The  question  is  whether  you  will  give  your 
children  the  advantage  of  being  regarded  as 
superior  beings  to  whom  all  opportunities  are 
open,  or  leave  them  to  struggle  with  the  same 
difficulties  that  confront  you." 

"But  don't  you  think  there  will  be  any 
change,  Uncle  Pac?  Don't  you  think  the 
good  Christian  men  and  women  who  have  done 
so  much  to  enlighten  our  people,  will  see  that 
there  cannot  be  peace  and  prosperity  and  true 
Christian  feeling  without  equality  of  opportu- 
nity?" 

"That's  a  hard  question,  Benny.  Christianity 
is  a  very  flexible  idea.  It  is  a  religion  that  runs 
with  popular  thought  and  adapts  itself  to  popu- 
lar prejudices.  It  does  not  rule  but  follows;  I 
mean  Protestantism,  of  course.  What  the  best 
people  of  a  nation  prefer,  that  it  is.  As  a 
noted  divine  has  recently  said,  'It  is  the  religion 
of  respectability ;  it  has  no  welcome  for  rags 


1 36  PACTOL  US  PRIME. 

and  grime — only  pity  and  alms.'  Now,  black 
is  not  a  respectable  color.  That  is  all  there  is 
of  it,  Benny.  Every  white  man  is  afraid  other 
white  men  might  think  less  of  him  if  he  recog- 
nized the  Negro  as  an  equal.  They  don't 
•  even  think  his  name  worth  a  capital  letter; 
the  poorest  printer  puts  it  all  in  '  lower-case.' 
This  feeling  is  not  likely  to  change  in  a  good 
many  years — perhaps  not  in  a  good  many  cen- 
turies, and  you  cannot  afford  to  wait." 

"It  seems  like  deserting  my  race,"  said  the 
boy,  ingenuously. 

"That  is  because  you  think  of  yourself  as 
a  nigger — the  poison  has  entered  your  own 
veins.  I  do  not  mean  that  you  think  any  less 
of  yourself — in  fact  I  believe  you  are  a  little 
proud  of  it.  I  don't  know  that  you  have 
any  reason  to.  Thus  far,  it's  been  a  misfor- 
tune to  be  black  or  brown  or  yellow — or  for 
that  matter  anything  but  white.  It's  a  misfor- 
tune to  you  that  some  of  your  mother's  fore- 
bears were  black:  and  it's  your  good  fortune 
that  others  of  your  progenitors  were  white. 
Now,  what  you've  got  to  do  is  to  forget  your 
mother's  side  of  the  family-tree.  It  wont  be 
hard  to  do.  The  slave  had  no  family.  Perhaps 
it's  just  as  well.  Generations  of  bondage  might 
as  well  be  forgotten  ;  there  is  no  honor  in  them. 
Your  mother  knows,  perhaps,  her  mother's 


THE  FEET  OF  TWO  ADMINISTRATIONS.    137 

name, — Parthenia  or  Elvira,  or  whatever  it  may 
have  been, — possibly  her  grandmother's,  though 
it's  not  likely.  She  may  have  had  a  brother 
or  a  sister,  but  there  is  no  paternal  side  to 
her  pedigree.  She  had  no  father,  neither  her 
mother  nor  her  mother's  mother  for  two  hun- 
dred years  at  least.  Christianity  did  not  allow 
the  slave  to  have  a  father.  It  was  an  offense 
against  good  morals  for  a  white  man  to  be  ille- 
gitimate, a  nobody's  son,  but  Christian  law  pro- 
vided expressly  that  every  slave  should  bear 
this  added  infamy  as  a  badge  of  the  greater 
wrong  of  bondage,  and  the  Christian  church 
permitted  and  endorsed  this  wholesale  wrong, 
simply  because  they  were  niggers.  It  up- 
held slavery  as  a  divine  institution  especially 
designed  for  the  benefit  of  the  colored  man, 
and  rigidly  forbade  marriage  to  the  slave  lest 
he  should  gain  a  pride  of  ancestry  or  build 
thereon  a  claim  of  right.  It  was  done,  simply 
because  Christianity  does  not  demand  or  re- 
quire that  its  followers  should  do  justice  to 
other  men  if  they  happen  to  be  'niggers.'  It 
was  a  terrible  wrong,  but  -is  that  any  reason 
why  the  children  of  the  victims  should  refuse  to 
take  advantage  of  its  benefits?  God  has  so  or- 
dered events  that  the  worst  wrongs  sometimes 
bring  advantage  to  the  oppressed.  Slavery 
made  your  mother  the  victim  of  a  master's  lust. 


138  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

You  did  not  inherit  his  name,  but  no  human 
law  can  prevent  the  transmission  of  qualities." 

"I  hate  the  very  thought  of  him,"  said  Benny 
hotly. 

"Don't  say  that,  my  child.  It's  natural  that 
the  children  of  those  who  have  been  wronged 
should  hate  the  oppressor;  but  no  good  will 
come  from  indiscriminate  hatred  of  the  white 
man  by  the  Negro.  The  one  advantage  that 
the  Negro  has  over  all  other  races  is  that  he 
can  wait  longer  for  his  rights  and  gather  more 
strength  from  adversity  while  he  waits,  than  any 
other.  We  are  the  answer  of  Samson's  riddle, 
'Out  of  the  eater  came  forth  meat ;  out  of  the 
strong  came  forth  sweetness.'  American  slav- 
ery would  have  killed  any  other  race,  but  we 
gathered  civilization  and  strength  from  it. 
Those  who  held  us  in  bondage  did  not  mean 
it  for  our  good,  but  we  should  not  forget  to  be 
grateful  to  that  divine  power  which  brought  us 
good  out  of  intended  evil." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,  that  I  ought  to  be 
grateful  to  the  author  of  my  mother's  shame?" 
said  the  young  man1  angrily. 

"Well ;  it's  a  good  deal  better  for  you  than  if 
your  father  had  been  a  colored  man,"  said 
Prime,  with  an  expressive  shrug. 

"How  can  you  say  that?" 

"It's  not  a  pleasant  doctrine:     there  is  noth- 


THE  FEET  OF  TWO  ADMINISTRATIONS.    139 

ing  high-sounding  or  flattering  to  our  ideas  of 
propriety  about  it ;  yet  a  million  facts  prove  it 
to  be  true.  I  have  no  doubt  God  intended 
these  things  for  our  advantage.  Perhaps  the 
Christ — the  true  Christ,  not  the  white  Christ 
whose  worship  is  tainted  with  apology  for  lust 
and  greed — meant  thereby  to  teach  those  who 
would  condition  His  grace  and  prescribe  the 
method  of  its  operation  and  extension,  that 
He  is,  after  all,  no  respecter  of  persons,  and  will 
make  even  their  pride  and  sin  to  minister  to 
His  mercy  and  love." 

"You  are  a  strange  man,"  said  the  assistant 
wonderingly.  "One  would  think,  sometimes, 
that  you  were  an  enemy  of  everything  like 
religion,  and  then  again  your  words  are  more 
solemn  than  another's  prayer." 

"I  am  an  enemy  of  everything  that  calls 
itself  religion,  which  lifts  one  man  above  an- 
other in  earthly  privilege  or  opportunity — 
which  separates  between  the  rich  and  the  poor, 
between  the  black  and  the  white.  God  can 
have  but  one  people,  one  church,  one  measure 
of  right  for  all.  Whatever  else  there  may  be  is 
of  the  devil!" 

"Yet  you  would  have  us  grateful  for  these 
very  things." 

"The  devil  often  builds  the  ladder  by  which 
truth  climbs  up.  I  would  not  have  you  throw 


140  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

away  advantages  because  they  happen  to  have 
come  to  you  in  a  way  you- do  not  approve.  It 
is  not  only  a  privilege  to  be  white,  but  it's  a 
decided  advantage  to  belong  to  such  a  family 
as  you  spring  from." 

"You  know  my  father?" 

"I  know  the  family,  child.  Most  everybody 
that  knows  the  country  does,  for  that  matter. 
They've  always  been  noted  for  having  their 
own  way — being  always  in  the  lead — and  espe- 
cially for  their  ability  to  get  and  hold  money. 
They  have  always  been  rich  and  always  will  be, 
I  reckon.  They  grew  rich  in  slave  times  and 
freedom  hasn't  made  them  poor.  The  fact 
that  you've  got  that  blood  in  your  veins  makes 
it  certain  that  you'll  succeed,  if  you  don't  let 
the  stubbornness  you  inherit  with  it,  spoil  your 
chances." 

"But  can't  I  do  something  for  the  race?" 
asked  the  young  man  with  pathetic  earnestness. 

'As  a  white  man  you  can  do  more  than  a 
thousand  colored  men.  It  is  white  sentiment, 
white  civilization,  white  Christianity  that  needs' 
to  be  modified.  The  colored  race  asks  no 
special  privilege,  no  peculiar  consideration,  no 
distinctive  favor.  If  equality  of  right,  privilege 
and  opportunity  is  secured  to  them,  they 
desire  nothing  more.  If  this  is  not  secured 
they  will,  some  time,  grow  sullen,  resentful  and 


THE  FEET  OF  TWO  ADMINISTRATIONS.    14  * 

dangerous.  In  this  coming  warfare  of  opinion 
you  may  be  a  much  more  important  factor  as  a 
white  than  as  a  colored  man.  At  all  events 
you  have  it  in  your  power  to  lift  one  family 
from  the  gulf  of  despair.  If  every  one  could 
do  as  much,  the  race-problem  would  soon  be 
solved." 

"How  did  you  come  to  have  such  thoughts — 
so  different  from  others?"  asked  the  young 
man. 

"I  have  had  a  different  experience,  I  sup- 
pose," answered  Prime,  meditatively  gazing  out 
of  the  window,  "an  experience  to  give  a  man 
new  ideas  if  not  strange  ones.  I  saw — I  tried 
once,  to  help  in  the  lifting  up  of  a  race  and 
securing  its  rights.  Since  that  I — I  have  been 
content  to  help  individuals.  It's  all  I  can  do — 
being  a  nigger — and  perhaps  I  owe  something 
of  my  power  to  do  even  this  to  the  same  forces 
which  make  you  capable  of  doing  more." 

"How  do  you  think  I  might  be  able  to 
accomplish  any  good,  in  this  direction?" 

"I  can't  tell,  Benny.  I've  quit  trying  to 
guess  how  things  will  come  about  or  even 
saying  hoiv  they  ought  to  be  done.  Any 
man  can  decide,  if  he  will  think  a  little,  what 
ought  to  be  done,  in  any  given  state  of  affairs; 
but  hoiv  it  may  be  accomplished — Ah,  that  is 
God's  part  of  the  riddle  !  And  he  works  it  out, 


142  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

sometimes  with  blessings,  but  quite  as  often 
with  curses.  It  is  the  curse  he  visits  on  the 
wrong-doer  that  ripens  into  blessing  on  the 
head  of  the  helpless  victim.  Anybody  who 
will  sit  down  and  study  calmly  what  he  sees 
to-day,  can  prophesy  with  a  good  deal  of  cer- 
tainty what  will  come  out  of  it  sooner  or  later; 
but  when  it  will  come,  or  how  it  will  come,  only 
a  fool  will  try  to  guess.  The  essential  equality 
in  right,  power,  privilege  and  opportunity 
of  the  Negro  in  America  is  sure  to  be  estab- 
lished. When  or  how  nobody  knows.  It  may 
be  within  a  generation ;  it  may  take  a  decade 
of  centuries.  It  may  be  by  reason ;  it  may  be 
by  force.  It  may  be  by  a  change  of  Christian 
ideals ;  it  may  be  by  a  message  from  heaven 
written  in  blood.  Perhaps  if  I  had  had  your 
advantages  and  been  as  white  as  you,  I  might 
have  known  more  or  done  better  in  my  day." 

A  half-sneer  curled  the  thin  lips  as  he  spoke. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Prime!"  said  the  young  man  re- 
proachfully, "don't  talk  like  that !  You  know 
I  ain't  fit  to  black  your  boots!" 

"Well,  you've  done  it  times  enough,"  an- 
swered the  old  man  cheerfully,  "and  that  re- 
minds me  that  one  of  them  hasn't  been  only 
about  half-shined  to-day.  You  may  as  well 
give  it  a  touch  now." 

He  wheeled  round  and  put  his  foot  on  the 


THE  FEET  OF  TWO  ADMINISTRATIONS.    143 

rest  while  Benny  completed  his  morning's 
interrupted  task. 

"What's  that  you  say?"  he  exclaimed,  pres- 
ently, turning  to  a  messenger  boy  who  inquired 
for  him.  "Something  for  me?  Hand  it  here!" 

He  took  a  note  from  the  boy ;  tore  it  open ; 
glanced  at  its  contents  and  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Never  mind  it,  Benny;  I  must  go — right 
away — right  away.  Hand  me  my  coat — not 
that  one — yes,  you  may,  too !  You're  a  good 
lad,  Benny,  and  I'll  stand  by  you." 

He  took  his  hat  and  stick,  dragged  his  lame 
leg  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  came  back  and  said 
to  the  young  man  in  an  intense  whisper: 

"Remember,  Benny,  whatever  happens  you 
are  to  be  a  lawyer,  and  a  white  lawyer  too !" 

Before  the  young  man  could  answer,  Prime 
had  hobbled  up  the  stairway  and  made  his  way 
through  the  crowded  office  to  the  door.  The 
young  man  stood  half-dazed  by  what  he  had 
heard,  until  the  sound  of  his  employer's  cough 
came  to  his  ears  as  he  descended  the  hotel  steps 
into  the  street.  Then  he  picked  up  his  law  book, 
sat  down  on  the  dais — he  never  sat  in  the  chairs, 
customers  did  not  like  it,  he  thought — opened 
it,  but  had  hardly  read  a  word  when,  half  an 
hour  later,  a  patron  roused  him  from  his  reverie 
by  a  demand  for  his  services. 


XII. 

AN   UNSATISFACTORY   CLIENT. 

TS  there  anything  wrong,  Mr.  Phelps?" 
1  It  was  Pactolus  Prime  who  asked  the 
question  as  he  entered  the  spacious  office  on  the 
door  of  which  was  the  modest  sign,  "Willard 
Phelps,  Attorney."  The  lawyer,  whose  ac- 
quaintance we  have  already  made,  was  its  only 
occupant.  The  clerks  were  absent  and  their 
desks  were  closed.  Only  the  self-employer 
labors  willingly  on  Christmas.  The  hat  and 
gloves  lying  on  the  baize-covered  table  desk  at 
which  he  usually  sat,  showed  that  even  the  pres- 
ence of  the  proprietor  was  meant  to  be  but 
temporary.  The  disciples  of  Themis  are  scrup- 
ulous about  the  observance  of  holidays — as  well 
as  other  legal  duties.  Sitting  before  the  open 
grate,  from  which  the  blower  had  but  recently 
been  removed,  the  lawyer  shielded  his  face 
from  the  ruddy  glow  of  the  mass  of  anthracite 
with  his  left  hand,  as  he  waved  his  visitor 
toward  a  chair  with  a  slight  movement  of  the 
right.  There  was  a  shade  of  annoyance  on  his 
144 


AN  UNSA  TISFACTOR  Y-  CLIENT.  145 

brow  as  he  answered  the  inquiry  with  brief 
decisiveness: 

"Just  as  I  told  you !" 

"She  wont  take  it?"  asked  Prime  anxiously, 
as  he  seated  himself  with  the  sidling  movement 
made  necessary  by  the  peculiar  deformity  of 
his  right  leg.  He  held  his  hat  in  his  hand  in  a 
way  to  show  the  pathetic  dependency  of  habit 
that  seems  to  be  the  inevitable  inheritance  of 
slavery.  "You  say  she  wont  take  it,  sir?"  he 
repeated  with  plaintive  importunity. 

"Not  under  those  conditions." 

"You  explained  to  her,  I  suppose,  that — that 
it  was  her  father's  property,  and  that  the — the 
conditions  were  in  accordance  with  his  desire?" 

"I  did  my  best  to  convey  that  impression, 
Prime.  I  am  not  accustomed  to  lie,  and  may 
not  have  succeeded  very  well.  I  told  her  I  was 
so  informed ;  that  was  as  far  as  I  could  go." 

"Of  course — of  course,"  rejoined  Prime 
eagerly,  as  the  lawyer  paused,  "and  she — what 
did  she  say?" 

"Just  what  any  good  girl  would,  of  course." 

"Yes?" — assented  Prime  inquiringly. 

"That  she  did  not  care  for  wealth  under 
those  conditions." 

"You  don't  say?"  exclaimed  the  old  man  with 
unconscious  exultation  in  his  tone.  "Didn't 
take  any  time  to  think  about  it?" 


146  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"She  did  not  seem  to  require  any,"  said  the 
lawyer,  his  countenance  relaxing  as  if  he  found 
the  idea  amusing. 

"Did  she  ask  any  questions — seek  any  ex- 
planations?" 

"She   wanted   to   know   whether   this   P.  P. 
Smith,  who  claimed  a  paternal  interest  in  her, 
was  alive,  and  whether  she  could  see  him?" 

"And  you — you  told  her — what?"  asked  the 
old  man  anxiously. 

"I  told  her  I  inferred  that  he  was  alive,  but 
that  he  desired  to  keep  his  identity  a  secret — 
for  the  present  at  least." 

"Yes?" 

"Then  she  wanted  to  know  where  he  was — 
if  I  had  ever  seen  him — and  asked  half  a  dozen 
other  questions  interspersed  with  remarks  not  at 
all  complimentary  either  to  me  or  my  client." 

"And  you  told  her — ?" 

"I  told  her  that  I  had  not  the  honor  of  the 
gentleman's  acquaintance,"  answered  the  law- 
yer bluntly. 

"But  you  showed  her  the  picture — gave  her 
the  commission,  and  informed  her  that — that  he 
was  a  respectable  man  and  of  good  family?" 

"I  showed  her  the  papers — left  them  with  her 
in  fact — and  told  her  I  believed  he  was  a  man 
of  considerable  wealth — as  indeed  the  deeds 
showed." 


AN  UNSATISFACTORY  CLIENT.  H7 

"And  then — ?" 

"She  wanted  to  know  why  he  did  not  come 
himself  and  do  his  own  errand,  instead  of  send- 
ing an  attorney.  You  ought  to  remember  she 
is  not  a  child,  Prime,"  said  the  lawyer  almost 
irritably. 

"But  you  explained  to  her  that  there  were 
circumstances — that  it  was  necessary — "  stam- 
mered the  client. 

"I  told  her  the  deeds  were  genuine — that 
much  I  felt  able  to  assure  her.  As  to  why  her 
father  chose  an  agent  in  communicating  with 
her,  I  could  not  tell  the  truth  and  so  attempted 
no  explanation.  I  did  say  I  presumed  he  had 
a  motive  which  was  sufficient  for  him  and  con- 
sequently for  me." 

"And — and — what  then?" 

"She  naturally  wanted  to  know  why  he  had 
waited  so  long  before  recognizing  her  claim 
upon  him?" 

"You  told  her  he  had  always  provided  for 
her?" 

"I  said  I  was  so  informed,"  answered  the 
lawyer  dryly. 

"Well,  how  did  she  receive  that?" 

"Like  a  queen ;  said  she  was  glad  to  know 
something  creditable  about  him." 

"But  you  told  her  he  was  a  brave  soldier — was 
promoted  for  gallantry,  and — and — all  that?" 


1 48  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"I  called  her  attention  to  those  facts." 

"That  must  have  gratified  her." 

"She  smiled  contemptuously,  and  said  she 
had  never  supposed  her  father  could  have  been 
a  coward !" 

"But  she  took  the  deeds?"  interrupted  the 
old  man,  eagerly. 

"I  left  them  with  her." 

"It's  all  right  then  ;  the  property  is  hers ;  that 
is  a  delivery,  isn't  it ;  the  rest  will  come." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that.  She  said 
she  would  never  wear  the  name  except  long 
enough  to  transfer  the  property  to  her  Uncle 
Pac,  who  has  been  more  than  a  father  to  her, 
and  authorized  me  to  tell  the  man  claiming  to 
be  her  father,  that  unless  she  was  openly 
acknowledged  and  given  leave  to  do  as  she 
chose  in  regard  to  you,  she  would  petition  the 
court  to  have  her  name  changed  to  yours  and 
publicly  avow  herself  your  daughter!" 

"But  she  can't  do  that — that — that  would  be 
ruin !"  exclaimed  Prime,  leaning  forward  anx- 
iously. "You  wont  let  her  do  that,  Mr. 
Phelps?" 

"She  is  not  a  person  to  be  easily  managed, 
Prime.  You  know  I  advised  against  any  sub- 
terfuge at  first.  Now  that  her  suspicions  are 
aroused,  it  will  be  difficult  to  deceive  her 
further." 


AN  UNSATISFACTORY  CLIENT.  149 

"Her  suspicions!" 

"Yes;  she  inquired  flatly  whether  I  knew 
anything  about  her  mother." 

"You  told  her  she  was  dead." 

"I  told  her  that  I  had  been  so  informed." 

"Certainly — that  was  right — quite  right." 

"And  then  she  asked  me  if  I  could  tell  her 
anything  about  herself — who  she  looked  like, 
you  know?" 

"Of  course  you  could  not." 

"I  did  not,  at  any  rate." 

"That  satisfied  her,  I  suppose?" 

"It  didn't  seem  to;  she  asked  me  point-blank 
if  I  had  any  reason  to  suppose  her  mother  was 
of  colored  blood." 

"Of  colored  blood !  you  told  her  no,  of 
course." 

"I  told  her  I  had  no  knowledge  on  the  sub- 
ject." 

"How  do  you  suppose  she  came  to  ask  such 
a  question?"  asked  Prime  in  an  anxious  tone. 

"Something  you  had  said  years  ago,  which 
she  remembered,  seemed  to  have  awakened  a 
suspicion  of  that  sort." 

"I  wonder  what  it  could  have  been?" 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know.  You  remember 
the  adage  about  '  little  pitchers.'  This  is  not 
the  only  thing  she  seems  to  have  remembered 
of  that  time.  She  wanted  to  know  if  the 


150  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

officer — the  man  whose  photograph  you  sent — 
was  not  somehow  related  to  you?" 

"That's  likely — "  said  Prime  with  an  uneasy 
laugh.  "Looks  like  me,  don't  it?  Did  she 
think  he*  was  a  'nigger'  too?" 

"She  said  she  had  seen  the  portrait  before — 
or  one  like  it — in  your  possession." 

"Of  course — what  could  be  more  natural?" 

"She  remembered  what  you  said  about  it, 
too." 

"What  was  that?" 

"She  did  not  tell  me — but  she  said  enough  to 
lead  me  to  understand  that  she  had  listened  to 
more  than  one  of  your  diatribes  on  the  status 
of  the  colored  race,  and  had  fully  made  up  her 
mind  as  to  what  she  ought  to  do." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"She  thinks  she  is  somehow  connected  with 
that  unfortunate  people ;  but  whether  she  is  or 
not,  she  feels  certain  that  you  have  supported, 
cared  for  and  educated  her,  and  she  is  deter- 
mined that  where  you  are,  she  will  go.  In  the 
words  of  Ruth,  she  is  ready  to  say,  'Your  peo- 
ple shall  be  my  people  and  your  God  my  God.'  " 

"But  I  am  a  'nigger'!"  said  the  old  man  bit- 
terly. 

"And  she  believes  herself  your  daughter." 

"My  daughter!  But  that  is  impossible! 
Look  at  me!  Is  it  likely  that  beautiful  young 


AN  UNSA  TISF ACTOR  Y  CLIENT.  T$ I 

lady  could  be  my  child?  You  told  her  it  was 
absurd,  of  course?" 

"You  can  argue  the  case  with  her  yourself, 
Prime ;  but  I  doubt  if  mere  physiological  argu- 
ment will  prevail.  Women  reason  with  their 
hearts,  you  know.  She  does  not  stop  to  in- 
quire how  it  can  be,  but  simply  believes  that 
it  is.  I  told  her  I  knew  nothing  about  the 
matter,  and,  therefore,  could  have  nothing  to 
say  about  it.  I  said  farther  that  I  had  been 
given  to  understand  that  her  parents  had  sepa- 
rated on  account  of  some  difference,  and  that 
you  had  acted  as  her  father's  agent  in  this 
matter." 

"But  you  should  have  reasoned  with  her — 
convinced  her!  I'm  glad  she  don't  want  to  for- 
get me;  but  she  must  be  content  to  know  that 
I  am  not  likely  to  suffer;  she  must  cut  loose 
from  me  though !  The  very  suspicion  ef  any 
relationship  with  me  would  ruin  her — ruin  her 
forever !  Tell  her  so,  Mr.  Phelps — tell,  her  I 
say  so — tell  her  it  must  be  so !" 

The  old  man  spoke  with  great  excitement, 
pulling  off  his  glasses  to  wipe  the  sweat  from 
his  face.  The  lawyer  regarded  him  attentively 
for  a  moment ;  rose  and  turned  the  key  in  the 
door,  and  returning  to  his  seat,  said : 

"You  may  tell  her  what  you  choose  yourself, 
Prime,  but  as  for  me — 


152  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"Don't  say  that !"  interrupted  the  old  man — 
"don't,  Mr.  Phelps,  don't !  You've  always  been 
my  friend.  Don't  say  you  wont  stand  by  me 
now!  Don't  say  you  wont  help  me.  You've 
known  me  a  long  time.  Did  you  ever  know 
anything  bad  of  me?  Haven't  I  been  a  man  — 
a  man  among  men — if  I  am  black?  Did  you 
ever  know  me  to  lie  or  do  anything  mean? 
You  know  how  I  love  her — you  know  I  only 
want  to  secure  her  happiness !  Don't  say  you 
wont  help  me!" 

The  old  man's  petition  was  like  a  wail  of  de- 
spair. He  grasped  the  lawyer's  hand  and  seemed 
about  to  go  down  on  his  knees  before  him. 

"I  do  esteem  you,  Prime,"  answered  the  law- 
yer, preventing  this  purpose  by  extending  his 
hand  ;  "not  many  men  whom  I  have  known  have 
shown  either  the  ability  or  integrity  you  have 
displayed.  You  have  not  always  taken  my  ad- 
vice. I  have  warned  you  against  the  mystery 
you  have  persisted  in  maintaining  about  your- 
self. I  do  not  wish  to  pry  into  your  secrets, 
and  have  no  doubt  you  think  you  are  doing 
right ;  but  I  cannot  consent  to  advise  about  a 
matter  in  which  I  am  uninformed,  or  take  the 
responsibility  of  countenancing  a  course  which 
may  be  fraught  with  misery  to  another,  when  I 
do  not  know  the  facts.  It  has  long  been  evi- 
dent to  me  that  you  are  laboring  under  some 


AN  UNSA  TISFA  CTOR  Y  CLIENT.  153 

morbid  sentiment,  if  not  actual  delusion  in 
regard  to  this  matter.  You  know  I  am  well 
aware  that  this  property  does  not  belong  to 
this  man,  Smith — if  indeed  the  man  himself  is 
not  a  myth." 

"But  Mr.  Phelps,  I  assure  you  it  does — I 
swear  to  you— 

"There,  there,  Prime,"  said  the  lawyer  firmly, 
"do  not  make  any  such  protestations.  I  have 
not  been  your  counsel  for  fifteen  years  not  to 
know  to  whose  thrift  and  sagacity  the  ac- 
cumulation of  this  property  is  due.  We  came 
here  about  the  same  time.  I  was  a  lawyer 
in  good  practice :  you  a  boot-black  on  the 
street.  I  had  everything  in  my  favor:  you 
everything  against  you :  I  have  watched  your 
course  in  the  acquisition  of  this  estate;  I 
have  seen  your  wise  forecasting  of  events — 
a  forecast  that  not  seldom  outran  my  judg- 
ment. It  has  given  me  pleasure  even  to  be 
outdone,  for  I  have  felt  that  you  were  dem- 
onstrating the  capacity  of  your  people  and 
doing  more  than  any  stranger  could,  to  deter- 
mine their  future.  After  a  time  this  man  Smith 
began  to  buy  lots  in  Washington.  You  acted 
for  him.  Now  he  is  rich,  he  could  buy  me  out 
two  or  three  times  over.  You  want  I  should 
believe  that  he  did  it  all.  I  decline.  I  say  you 
made  this  fortune,  and  I  don't  believe  in  Smith ! 


154  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"You  know  my  feeling  in  regard  to  your  race. 
Sympathy  and  sentiment  are  well  enough,  but, 
say  what  we  will,  money  is  the  secret  of  suc- 
cess, and  the  power  to  make  money  the  test  of 
merit.  The  ladder  on  which  your  race  must 
rise  has  golden  rounds.  When  they  become 
the  owners  of  railroads  they  will  be  able  to 
travel  first-class  anywhere.  As  soon  as  they 
own  the  majority  of  acres  in  any  State,  they 
will  control  its  legislation.  Power  is  regulated 
by  the  dollar-mark ;  so  are  privilege  and  esteem. 
That  is  the  law  of  our  civilization.  That  is 
why  I  was  anxious  to  see  you  come  out  from 
under  the  cover  of  this  name  and  acknowledge 
your  own  success.  You  may  have  been  under 
obligations  to  the  father  of  this  girl.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  this  Smith,  in  whose  name  you  have 
bought  lot  after  lot  until  he  is  accounted  one  of 
the  largest  property-holders  of  the  District — I 
say  it  is  possible  he  may  have  aided  you  at 
first — but  I  do  not  believe  it.  You  know  I  am 
the  attorney  of  the  bank  in  which  you  have 
always  kept  your  account,  and  though  the 
checks  with  which  the  purchases  were  made 
have  generally  been  in  my  name,  I  know 
that  the  account  of  Pactolus  Prime  has  been 
behind  them,  and  that  account  has  been  the 
foundation  of  this  fortune.  I  know,  too,  that 
this  fortune  did  not  begin  to  develop  until 


A N  UNSA  TISFA  C TOR  Y  CLIENT.  1 5 5 

your  bank-account  showed  a  snug  balance  in 
your  favor,  made  up  at  first  by  weekly,  and 
afterward  by  daily,  deposits  of  your  earnings. 
I  have  protested  against  this,  and  tried  to  pro- 
tect you  and  those  you  desire  to  benefit  from 
possible  loss  thereby ;  but  I  will  go  no  farther. 
You  may  have  good  reasons  for  what  you 
have  done,  but  f  will  not  be  a  party  to  such 
deception  longer,  unless  I  know  what  those 
reasons  are.  You  must  either  confide  in  me 
fully,  or  get  some  one  else  to  act  for  you." 

'"Taint  no  use,  Mahster  Willard — 'taint  no 
use !"  pleaded  the  old  man.  "You  couldn't 
change  things  if  you  tried — nobody  can't 
change  them !  God  couldn't  do  it  unless  he 
first  changed  the  color  of  my  skin.  'Taint 
money,  Mr.  Phelps — money  makes  a  white 
man,  that's  true:  but  even  money  can't  help 
a  'nigger' :  he's  nothing  but  a  'nigger,'  no  mat- 
ter how  rich.  The  only  thing  for  him  to  do  is 
to  get  to  be  white  or  pretend  to  be  white.  If 
he  can't  do  either,  he  must  hide  behind  a  white 
man's  name.  If  you  knew  all  there  is  to  tell, 
you'd  say  I  couldn't  have  done  any  different." 

"That  may  be,  Prime,  but  I  must  know  it  all 
before  I  say  anything  more.  If  you  cannot 
trust  me — " 

"Don't  say  that,  Mahster  Willard—" 

"Why  do  you  call  me  that?    You  never  did 


156  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

before ;  don't  do  it  again,"  said  the  lawyer  with 
some  irritation.  "If  there  is  any  bit  of  Scrip- 
ture the  colored  man  should  construe  literally, 
it  is  the  command  to  "Call  no  man  Master." 
You  ought  not  to  perpetuate  even  the  language 
of  slavery — much  less  its  spirit." 

"I  wont,  Mr.  Phelps,  I  wont;  but  don't  inti- 
mate again  that  I  don't  trfist  you  or  that 
you  wont  help  me.  I'll  tell  you  everything 
you  choose  to  ask.  I  can't  do  any  more.  Just 
ask  me  what  you  want  to  know  and  I'll  answer 
truly:  I  will  Mr.  Phelps — only  don't  ask  any- 
thing you  don't  need  to  know — please  don't '" 


XIII. 

A  PUZZLED   COUNSELLOR. 

ALONG  conversation  between  counsel  and 
client  ensued.  The  lawyer's  questions 
were  keen  and  pertinent ;  the  client  seemed  to 
shrink  from  them  as  from  the  edge  of  a  knife, 
yet  he  answered,  unwillingly  sometimes,  but 
clearly.  When  it  was  over  he  seemed  to  have 
aged  a  score  of  years. 

The  lawyer  rose  and  walked  back  and  forth 
across  the  room,  his  hands  clasped  behind  his 
back,  a  furrow  stretching  from  side  to  side 
above  the  gray,  overhanging  brows,  beneath 
which  the  blue  eyes  looked  pityingly  down 
upon  the  bent  and  relaxed  figure  in  the  chair. 
Pactolus  Prime's  hat  had  fallen  to  the  floor; 
his  long,  thin  hands  feebly  grasped  the  arms  of 
the  chair,  out  of  which  his  form  seemed  inclined 
to  slip.  The  knitted  black  cap  lay  upon  the 
floor  beside  him,  and  the  great  silver-rimmed 
spectacles,  held  by  one  bow,  dangled  from  his 
left  hand.  The  sharp-lined  countenance,  nar- 
rowing from  the  wide,  high  brow  to  the  pinched- 
up  mouth,  and  pointed  chin,  with  the  mobile 
157 


158  PA  C  TOL  US  'PRIME. 

nostrils  swelling  and  contracting,  formed  a 
curious  contrast  with  the  even  blue-gray  color 
of  the  smooth,  hairless  poll.  His  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  the  grate,  and  his  attitude  was  one 
of  utter  despair.  His  countenance  had  lost 
its  boldness  and  retained  only  its  sharpness, 
incongruity,  and  even  more  pathetic  hopeless- 
ness. He  coughed  frequently. 

The  lawyer  glanced  <  at  him  furtively  as  he 
passed  and  re-passed,  biting  his  lip  and  giving 
his  massive  head  an  almost  imperceptible  shake 
each  time,  as  if  he  found  it  impossible  to  recon- 
cile two  trains  of  thought  which  were  passing 
through!  his  mind.  Picking  up  a  small  photo- 
graph from  the  table,  he  glanced  from  it  to  the 
shrunken  figure  in  the  chair.  The  frown  grew 
deeper  on  his  brow  and  he  shook  his  head  more 
positively  still,  as  he  went  to  the  window  and 
looked  out  upon  the  avenue.  The  storm  had 
died  with  the  advancing  day,  but  a  sharp,  dry 
wind  swept  the  streets  on  which  the  winter  sun 
looked  down  with  chill,  glittering  radiance. 
But  no  sort  of  weather  can  deprive  the  Christ- 
mas festival  of  cheerfulness.  The  sidewalks 
were  crowded  with  chattering  throngs  whose 
garments  the  wind  tossed  recklessly  about, 
while  the  sun  lighted  up  the  bright  colors  and 
flashed  back  from  folds  of  satin  and  points  of 
jet.  Rich  equipages  rolled  almost  noiselessly 


A  PUZZLED  COUNSELLOR  159 

along  the  smooth  concrete  pavement ;  gay 
greetings  passed  back  and  forth  between  their 
occupants  and  the  bustling  tide  upon  the  side- 
walks. The  street  was  alive  with  Christmas 
merry-making;  the  city  resonant  with  Christ- 
mas joys.  The  lawyer  gazed  upon  the  bright 
scenes  with  a  sigh. 

There  was  a  hollow,  spasmodic  cough  from 
the  figure  sitting  by  the  grate.  The  lawyer 
turned  and  looked  at  his  client.  He  had 
thrown  off  the  fine  new  overcoat — the  Christ- 
mas gift  of  his  assistant — upon  the  back  of  the 
chair  in  which  he  sat,  and  a  furred  cuff  dragged 
on  the  carpet,  one  on  either  side,  while  the 
slender  figure  writhed  with  the  paroxysmal 
effort.  The  lawyer  walked  back  and  stood  be-' 
side  him.  When  the  paroxysm  had  ceased,  he 
laid  a  soft  white  hand  upon  the  thin,  brown 
one  which  clasped  the  chair-arm  tightly. 

"What  are  you  doing  for  that  cough,  Pacto- 
lus?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  it  is  nothing — nothing,  sir,"  said  the 
other  catching  his  breath  after  the  convulsive 
effort  he  had  made,  and  wiping  away  the  mois- 
ture which  had  involuntarily  gathered  in  his 
eyes.  The  lawyer  noticed  that  the  handker- 
chief he  used  was  white  and  fine  and  bore  in 
the  corner  a  delicate  monogram. 

"Have  you  eaten  anything  to-day?" 


160  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right,  Mr  Phelps." 

The  man  straightened  up  as  if  resenting  the 
imputation  of  weakness. 

"But  have  you  eaten?" 

"I  declare,  I've  most  forgot.  You  see  I  was 
so  anxious  about  this  matter — so  afraid  some- 
thing would  go  wrong  and  I  might  lose  all  I 
had  worked  for,  all  my  life.  Besides,  I  haven't 
quite  got  used  to  my  new  quarters  yet." 

"You  should  not  have  made  a  change  at  this 
time  of  the  year,"  said  the  lawyer  in  a  tone  of 
grave  rebuke. 

"But  you  see,  Mr.  Phelps —  he  put  his 
hands  together  aimlessly  as  if  to  express  some- 
thing he  found  it  difficult  to  utter. 

"I  know,"  said  the  lawyer  gently,  "it  was 
part  of  a  very  foolish  plan,  but  it  was  kindly 
meant — bravely  intended,"  he  added  heartily 
after  a  moment's  pause,  as  if  he  were  unaccus- 
tomed to  words  of  praise — "I  will  say  that, 
though  I  wish  you  had  not  done  it.  By  the 
way,  where  did  you  go?" 

"Oh,  I  am  very  comfortably  fixed,  very  com- 
fortably." He  looked  up  with  a  smile  that 
showed  his  appreciation  of  the  other's  sym- 
pathy, but  did  not  answer  the  question.  There 
was  something  furtive  about  it,  as  if  he  pur- 
posely avoided  the  inquiry. 

As  he  did  so,  the  lawyer  noticed   that  the 


A  PUZZLED  COUNSELLOR.  161 

whites  of  his  eyes  were  of  a  dull,  bluish  tint,  as 
if  the  color  of  the  lids  had  somehow  become 
spread  over  them,  leaving  the  iris  not  indis- 
tinct, indeed,  but  showing  with  curious  inten- 
sity that  was  little  less  than  horrible.  He 
had  never  seen  him  without  glasses  before. 
Even  the  trained  lawyer's  face  could  not  con- 
ceal an  expression  of  surprise,  almost  of  aver- 
sion, as  he  caught  sight  of  the  strange  eyeballs. 

"I  forgot  I  had  taken  off  my  glasses,"  said 
the  old  man  meekly,  as  he  let  his  gaze  fall,  and 
adjusted  the  spectacles  upon  his  nose.  He 
looked  around  for  the  knitted  cap  and  drew  it 
also  into  place  with  the  deftness  that  marks 
accustomed  movements. 

"It  might  be  well  that  I  should  know  your 
address,"  said  the  lawyer  with  evident  embar- 
rassment. 

"Oh,  you  will  always  find  me  at  the  'Best 
House';  we  keep  early  hours  there, — and  gen- 
erally late  ones,  too." 

The  lawyer  saw  that  his  client  did  not  mean 
to  give  his  address.  He  waited  a  moment, 
then  unlocked  the  door,  stepped  around  to  the 
other  side  of  his  desk,  touched  an  electric  but- 
ton, took  out  a  pad  of  paper,  and  lifting  the 
cover  of  a  curiously  shaped  brass  inkstand 
began  to  write.  The  door  opened  after  a  mo- 
ment, and  a  man  entered.  He  did  not  seem 


1 62  .        PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

pleased  at  being  disturbed.  No  one  likes  to 
perform  even  a  customary  duty  on  a  holiday. 
The  man's  contract  was  for  every  day  in  the 
year,  but  he  did  not  expect  to  work  on  Christ- 
mas, though  he  would  not  fail  to  demand  pay 
for  it  as  well  as  every  other  day. 

"I  am  sorry  to  call  you  to-day,  Jerry;  but  I 
have  some  business  that  will  not  wait  for 
Christmas,"  his  employer  said  pleasantly,  as  he 
tore  the  sheet  from  the  pad,  folded  it,  took  a 
bill  from  his  pocket  and  gave  them,  with  some 
whispered  directions,  to  the  servitor. 

"I  'spose  I  might  as  well  be  going,"  said 
Prime.  His  tone  showed  that  he  thought 
he  might  be  in  the  way,  but  he  did  not  look 
up. 

"Wait  a  while,"  was  the  answer.  "I  must 
have  some  farther  talk  with  you." 

The  lawyer  resumed  his  seat  by  the  fire  and 
began  to  ask  questions  about  the  subject  of 
their  previous  conversation.  After  a  time  the 
servitor  reappeared  with  a  basket  in  his  hand 
followed  by  a  colored  waiter  from  a  neighboring 
restaurant,  bearing  a  tray.  The  lawyer  nodded 
toward  the  desk.  The  servant  removed  the 
inkstand ;  the  waiter  spread  a  cloth  over  the 
green  baize  and  placed  on  it  a  tempting  lunch- 
eon. There  were  covers  for  two.  Pactolus 
Prime  paid  no  attention  to  what  was  going  on. 


A  PUZZLED  COUNSELLOR.  163 

Jerry  handed  the  change  to  the  lawyer.  He 
took  one  of  the  coins  and  gave  it  to  the  waiter, 
who  bowed  and  grinned,  scraping  his  foot  back- 
ward as  he  did  so. 

"Thank'e,  sah ;  wish  hit  was  Chris'mas  ebery 
day  in  de  year,  sah." 

The  lawyer  waved  his  hand  slightly  in  accus- 
tomed acknowledgment. 

"You  may  get  the  baby  a  Christmas  gift  with 
the  rest,  Jerry,"  he  said,  pushing  away  the  hand 
that  held  the  change. 

The  man's  face  brightened  as  he  acknowl- 
edged the  present. 

"Call  a  cab  for  me  in  an  hour,"  added  the 
attorney,  consulting  his  watch. 

Both  the  servants  cast  an  inquiring  glance 
at  the  crouching  figure  in  the  chair  as  they 
passed  out. 

"What  yer  'spose  de  matter  wid  Uncle 
Prime?"  asked  the  waiter  as  they  went  along 
the  hall.  A  lawyer's  servant  is  usually  a  very 
prudent  person ;  besides  this,  Jerry  had  the 
larger  moiety  of  the  bill  Mr.  Phelps  had  given 
him  still  firmly  clutched  in  his  hand,  so  he  was 
not  inclined  to  be  communicative. 

"Well,  Prime,"  said  the  lawyer  after  a  time, 
"I    cannot  work,   even   on   Christmas,  without 
something   to    eat,  so   I  sent    out    for  a  little 
snack.     Sit  up  and  help  me  eat  it." 


164  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

"But,  Mr.  Phelps — "  began  Prime  apologeti- 
cally. 

"I  am  not  accustomed  to  having  such  invi- 
tations declined,"  interrupted  the  other  cour- 
teously, but  with  a  firmness  that  made  further 
refusal  impossible. 

He  moved  a  couple  of  chairs  to  the  side  of 
the  desk ;  picked  up  the  other's  hat  from  the 
floor  and  hung  it  with  his  overcoat  upon  a  rack 
behind  the  desk  where  the  servant  had  placed 
his  own.  Then  pointing  to  the  other  chair,  he 
sat  down  and  began  to  serve  the  viands  with 
the  skill  which  only  a  bon  vivant  ever  attains ; 
for  Willard  Phelps  was  not  only  one  of  the  first 
lawyers  of  the  national  capital,  but  also  one  of 
the  most  polished  gentlemen  of  the  country. 
His  courtesy  was  of  that  unconscious  kind 
which  gave  warmth  to  all  he  did,  and  not  only 
made  him  a  welcome  guest  in  the  most  exclu- 
sive circles  of  society,  but  rendered  an  invita- 
tion to  his  board  a  privilege  to  be  prized  by 
the  highest.  He  was  a  man  as  well  known  in 
society  as  in  his  profession,  one  who  had  sat  in 
the  councils  of  more  than  one  President,  yet 
who  was  remembered  by  all  who  knew  him 
rather  as  a  man  than  as  an  official. 

It  was  a  strange  Christmas  feast — the  host, 
the  courtly  leader  of  the  bar  of  the  capital  city 
of  the  most  Christian  nation ;  his  guest,  the 


A  PUZZLED  COUNSELLOR.  165 

dusky  boot-black  of  the  Best  House!  The 
white  Christian  and  the  black  pariah  sitting  at 
the  same  board !  Yet  there  was  no  lack  of 
courtesy  on  the  part  of  the  one,  and  no  unaccus- 
tomed awkwardness  on  the  part  of  the  other! 
But  the  door  was  locked.  It  was  only  an 
informal  lunch — a  "snack"  as  the  lawyer  had 
called  it.  Besides  it  was  Christmas,  when  even 
a  white  saint  might  perchance  be  permitted  to 
break  bread  with  a  fainting  fellow  of  dusky 
hue  without  reproach,  "so  blessed  and  so  hal- 
lowed is  the  time  !"  Yet  the  door  was  securely 
locked.  The  lawyer  had  turned  the  key  to 
save  his  guest  from  embarrassment,  quite  as 
much  as  to  screen  himself  from  reproach.  He 
was  not  one  who  feared  the  world,  and  what  he 
believed  it  his  duty  to  do  was  sure  to  be  done 
regardless  of  consequences  to  himself;  but  he 
had  no  desire  to  incur  unnecessary  odium,  and 
knew  that  the  act  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
however  harmless  it  might  seem  to  some,  was 
not  one  that  would  pass  unchallenged  even 
amid  the  kindly  festivities  of  the  Christmas- 
tide.  The  law  had  opened  the  door  of  the 
public  hotel  to  the  unfortunate  wayfarer  of 
dusky  hue,  but  there  were  very  few  in  all  the 
city  who  would  not  be  shocked  could  they  look 
in  upon  him  and  his  strange  guest.  He  knew 
Prime  well  enough,  too,  to  understand  that  if  he 


1 66  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

suspected  it  would  be  known,  nothing  could 
induce  him  to  imperil  in  the  least  degree  the 
social  status  of  his  entertainer.  He  did  not 
once  think  of  the  words  of  the  Master,  "As  ye 
did  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these,  my  bre- 
thren," but  he  did  wonder  what  welcome  the 
Saviour  would  receive  should  he  come  again 
to  earth  without  the  pomp  of  an  angelic  fol- 
lowing, and  clothed  in  a  fleshly  garment  of 
dusky  hue. 

When  their  repast  was  over  and  they  had  re- 
turned to  their  seats  beside  the  grate,  the  law- 
yer lighted  his  cigar,  and  said  : 

"You  haven't  told  me  about  your  wife, 
Prime." 

"I  don't  know  nothing  'bout  her  an'  don't 
want  to,"  answered  the  other  sullenly. 

"I  should  be  glad  to  spare  you,  but  as  your 
counsel  I  must  know  all  that  you  know.  If  I 
am  going  to  help  you  in  this,  I  must  not  act 
blindfolded  any  more." 

After  some  further  remonstrance  the  client 
complied  with  his  companion's  request. 

"And  that  is  all  you  know  about  her?"  the 
lawyer  asked  after  listening  to  his  story. 

"The  very  last  thing.  I  never  wanted  to 
know  anything  more,  and  so  asked  no  ques- 
tions." 

"But  Benny — ?"  suggested  the  lawyer. 


A  PUZZLED  COUNSELLOR.  167 

"Yes,  I  recognized  him,  or  rather  guessed — 
as  he  grew  older." 

"And  you  asked  no  questions?" 

"Not  a  word,  sir.  I  was  glad  to  do  him  a 
kindness ;  I  don't  bear  no  ill-will — only  I  don't 
want  to  know." 

"And  you  think  he  does  not  suspect  the 
truth?" 

"Not  a  word,  sir,  not  a  word,  and  he  must 
never  suspect  it.  He'd  better  be  thought  a 
white  man  without  a  dollar  than  have  much 
more  than  I  could  give  him  and  be  counted  a 
nigger." 

"I'm  not  sure  but  you  are  right,  Prime.  I 
don't  like  deception,  but  when  people  are  so — 
so  nearly — " 

"Just  as  white  as  anybody!"  exclaimed 
Prime  excitedly.  "Why,  Benny  could  take  his 
mother,  sir,  and  go  anywhere  among  strangers, 
and  nobody 'd  ever  dream  they  weren't  white. 
An'  he's  got  good  blood  in  him,  Mr.  Phelps — 
ain't  no  better  in  all  the  South.  Never  was  any 
real  no-count  ones  among  'em  until  Marse 
Junius,  an'  I  don't  know  as  he'd  have  been  if 
he  hadn't  been  bewitched." 

"Did  you  know  he  became  very  rich?" 

"No,  did  he?" 

"So  I  hear." 

"Well,"   said   Prime,  with   evident   satisfac- 


1 68  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

tion,  "it's  in  the  Wood  to  get  on !  I  tell  you, 
Benny '11  make  a  man  an'  no  mistake.  If  he 
was  only  white  I'd  back  him  to  be  President — 
I  would  for  a  fact.  It's  in  the  blood.  But 
how'd  Marse  Jun  make  his  money?  I  hain't 
no  cause  to  feel  kindly  toward  him,  but  I'm 
glad  he's  got  on — for  the  sake  of  the  family 
name,  you  know!"  He  laughed  bitterly,  but  it 
was  plain  to  see  that  his  pride  was  gratified. 

"I  understand  it  was  in  fertilizers — phos- 
phates, I  believe." 

"In  Alabama?"  asked  the  old  man,  keenly. 

"No — South  Carolina." 

"On  the  Ashley?" 

"Yes." 

"Not — you  don't  mean?" 

The  old  man  sprang  to  his  feet  and  his  eyes 
glowed  through  his  glasses  with  unconcealed 
hate. 

"That  is  my  understanding." 

"By  God !  that  is  too  much !  How  did  he 
get  it?" 

"Bought  it  for  a  song — of  tJie  widow,"  sig- 
nificantly. 

"And  what  did  he  do — with  her?"  asked 
Prime  with  brutal  coarseness. 

"She  ran  away  as  soon  as  she  got  the 
money.  It  wasn't  much,  but  she  did  not 
squander  it." 


A  PUZZLED   COUNSELLOR.  169 

"And  Benny's  been  a  help  to  her,"  mused 
Prime 

"Indeed  he  has." 

"An'  so  Marse  Bug  got  his  hand  onto  that, 
too?  The  rascal !"  exclaimed  the  old  man,  "to 
cheat  his  own  kin — and  he  a  nigger  /" 

"You  did  not  know  he  was  dead?" 

"No,  is  he?  I'm  glad  on't,"  said  the  other 
savagely.  "I  shant  have  to  kill  him  now.  I 
don't  know  how  I've  kept  my  hands  off  him  so 
long.  I've  always  meant  to  do  it  some  time; 
jes'  been  puttin'  it  off  for — for  her  sake,  you 
know.  Now  I  shant  have  that  to  answer  for. 
Who's  got  the  plantation  now?" 

"His  brother." 

"Marse  Ephrum?  Heired  it,  I  s'pose.  Can't 
he  be  put  out,  Mr.  Phelps?  Couldn't  Benny 
oust  him?" 

"Benny  has  no  title." 

"But  if  he  had?  Suppose  he  had  a  deed 
from  the  owner?" 

"That  might  involve  a  judicial  inquiry  which 
would  prevent  his  being — well,  anything  else, 
you  know." 

"I  see;  he'd  have  to  admit  himself  a  'nigger' 
to  get  possession !" 

The  old  man  sprang  to  his  feet  and  paced 
back  and  forth  across  the  office,  dragging 
his  lame  leg  after  him  as  if  unconscious  of 


1 70  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

his  infirmity.  Then  he  looked  around  and 
said : 

"He's  got  to  have  it,  Mr.  Phelps,  Benny's 
got  to  have  it ;  but  how? — tell  me  how.  You're 
a  lawyer;  you  ought  to  know.  That  rascal 
shan't  keep  it !" 

"If  it  was  deeded  to  another,  a  stranger — 
perhaps —  "  said  the  lawyer  musingly. 

The  client  stumped  back  and  forth  across  the 
office  once  or  twice  before  he  spoke.  The  law- 
yer watched  him  with  grave  concern.  At 
length  the  old  man  said — still  keeping  his  face 
turned  away  from  the  other's  gaze : 

"Mr.  Phelps,  do  you  know  where  Mazy  is?" 

"Yes,  Prime,  I  do." 

"She's  gettin'  along  well,  I  'spose?"  His 
voice  trembled. 

"Do  you  want  to  know  where  she  is?" 

"I — I'd  like  to  see  her — just  once." 

"You  know  Benny's  name?" 

"Of  course." 

"Do  you  know  any  one  else  of  that  name?" 

The  man  turned  like  a  flash. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say — ?" 

The  lawyer  nodded  an  affirmative  reply  to 
the  half-spoken  question. 

"This  is  your  work,  Mr.  Phelps!" 

"Yes,  Prime — I  did  it." 

"You — you — why  did  you  do  it?" 


A   PUZZLED  COUNSELLOR.  171 

"I  wanted  to  do  you  a  kindness." 

"And  she  is — white! — she's  crossed  the  color- 
line!  You  put  her  across  it?" 

The  lawyer  bowed  assent. 

"And  she — knows?" 

"She  does  not  even  suspect." 

"Strange  that— that  I  didn't !" 

"Gray  hairs,"  said  the  lawyer  sententiously. 

"She's  grown  stouter,  too." 

"Naturally." 

The  client  resumed  his  halting  walk  across 
the  floor.  After  a  time  he  came  and  stood  be- 
fore the  lawyer.  He  spoke  calmly,  and  there 
was  no  trace  of  emotion  in  his  voice.  The  dia- 
lect came  out  strong  in  his  speech,  however, 
showing  his  agitation. 

"I  see  my  way  clar,  now,  Mr.  Phelps — jes  ez 
clar  ez  day.  They'd  all  be  white  ef  hit  warn't 
fer  me — no  denyin'  that.  Hit's  bein'  con- 
nected with  me  that  makes  'em  black — or 
makes  people  think  of  'em  ez  black.  What's 
the  remedy?  Take  me  out'n  the  case  -send 
me  away — wipe  me  out !" 

"But  I  don't  see — ?" 

"Don't  stop  me — I'll  tell  ye  how.  I'm  gwine 
away — no  matter  whar — ner  fer  how  long 
nuther.  I'm  gwine  ter  leave  everythin'  ter 
you — all  but  the  money  in  the  bank — that's 
enough  fer  me;  an'  you — you're  to  do  with  it 


172  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

jes'  what  you  think's  fer  the  good  of  all  on  'em. 
I'll  be  their  scape-goat — I'll  take  their  sins,  or 
at  least  their  blackness,  into  the  wilderness  an' 
leave  them  'ez  white  ez  wool,'  as  the  Scriptur 
says.  Wool's  changed  sence  them  days,"  he 
added  with  a  laugh;  "it  aint  esteemed  a  sign 
uv  whiteness  now!  That's  what  I'm  goin' to 
do,  Mr.  Phelps.  Make  out  the  papers — right 
away!" 

"But,  Prime,  if  you  make  me  your  trustee — ?" 

"Who  said  anythin'  'bout  a  trustee?  I'm 
gwine  ter  give  hit  to  ye — out  an'  out — don't 
yer  see?  Nobody'll  ever  suspect  you  of  bein'  a 
'nigger' !" 

"But  I  might — 

"Oh,  I  kin  trust  you — or  if  you  should  con- 
clude ter  keep  it  fer  yerself,  I  wouldn't  feel  so 
very  bad  about  it.  They've  got  enough,  an' 
Benny '11  git  along — I'll  resk  him!  You're  the 
next  one,  anyhow.  I  shan't  feel  bad — 'specially 
ef  you  should  need  it.  Keep  half  on't  ef  you 
want  to;  you're  welcome  to  it.  Only  make 
Marse  Ephrum  smart  !  That's  what  I  want." 

After  some  farther  conversation  the  lawyer 
prepared  certain  papers,  the  client  signed  them, 
and  the  servant  was  called  to  witness  the  signa- 
tures. He  was  not  in  the  most  discriminating 
condition  of  mind  ;  the  lawyer's  gratuity,  or  the 
influence  of  the  joyous  season,  having  some- 


A  PUZZLED  COUNSELLOR.  173 

how  unstrung  his  nerves,  but  the  soberest  man 
in  the  city  could  not  have  signed  his  name  with 
more  unmistakable  certainty,  and  that  is  the 
chief  thing  required  of  a  subscribing  witness. 

When  this  was  done  the  client  put  on  his  coat 
and  prepared  to  take  his  leave. 

"Good-by,  Mr.  Phelps,"  he  said,  extending 
his  hand.  "The  sooner  I  get  away  the  better. 
You  can  make  my  excuses  at  the  Best  House. 
I  hate  to  leave — it's  been  a  good  job,  and  we've 
never  had  any  trouble.  Tell  Benny  not  to  be 
in  a  hurry  to  sell  out.  The  new  Administra- 
tion will  make  things  lively  here  in  Washing- 
ton— for  a  while,  anyhow;  always  does.  I 
don't  know  when  I'll  see  you  again — perhaps 
never!" 

"Do  you  think  you  had  better  do  this, 
Prime?"  asked  the  lawyer  with  emotion. 

"Don't  try  to  persuade  me.  My  mind's 
made  up.  Good-by." 

He  wrung  the  hand  held  out  to  him  and 
started  hastily  away.  The  lawyer  heard  him 
going  down  the  stairs.  Several  minutes  had 
elapsed  when  he  opened  the  door  again  and 
said  without  coming  in  : 

"I  hope  you'll  pardon  me  for  what  I  said 
about  the  'White  Christ,'  Mr.  Phelps.  I  was 
wrong,  sir.  There  ain't  many  He's  been  as 
good  to  as  to  me.  I  don't  know  what  He 


t?4  PACTOLUS  PRIME.  ^ 

means  by  the  way  He's  allowed  my  people  to 
be  treated,  and  it  ain't  necessary  I  should  know. 
He  knows,  and  that's  enough.  It's  sufficient 
for  me  that  He's  showed  me  a  way  to  take  the 
curse  off  from  the  ones  I  love — my  own  par- 
ticular ones.  I'd  like  to  wish  you  a  Merry 
Christmas,  sir,  and  have  you  wish  me  one." 

"Very  gladly,  indeed,  Prime,"  said  the  law- 
yer, going  to  the  door  and  extending  his  hand, 
"Merry  Christmas  and  many  Happy  New 
Years  to  you !" 

"Thank  ye,  sah :  the  same  to  you." 

He  bowed  respectfully.  They  shook  hands 
again. 

"Good-by,  sah." 

"Good-by,  Prime." 

The  lawyer  listened  to  the  dragging  steps 
along  the  hall,  and  wondered  when  he  would 
hear  them  again.  While  he  waited  he  took 
some  blanks  from  his  desk  and  filled  them  out. 

"The  cab's  a-waitin',  sir." 

The  lawyer  put  on  his  hat  and  gloves,  told 
the  servant  he  would  not  be  in  again  during 
the  day,  and  was  driven  rapidly  away. 


XIV. 

PROFESSIONAL  COURTESY. 

"A  MAJOR!"  cried  Phelps,  as  he  sig- 
w  naled  the  driver  to  stop,  and  drew  up  to 
the  pavement  on  E  Street,  along  which  the  one- 
armed  veteran  was  making  his  way  as  if  the 
fate  of  the  nation  depended  on  his  reaching  his 
destination  within  a  time  limited.  "I  was  just 
going  to  your  office,  Major  Wolcott,  on  the 
chance  of  finding  you  in — a  poor  chance,  I  sup- 
pose, to-day?"  he  added  with  a  smile. 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  the  Major  cheerfully. 
"My  practice  isn't  heavy  enough  to  prevent 
my  taking  a  day  off  now  and  then,  but  the 
bother  of  it  is  I'm  always  afraid  a  good  thing 
may  happen  along  when  I'm  out,  you  know. 
If  I  had  yours,  now,"  he  added,  but  without 
a  touch  of  envy,  "I  should  be  quite  above 
watching  for  clients  on  Christmas  Day — though 
it's  always  been  a  lucky  day  for  me  in  that 
respect." 

"I  hope  this  one  has  been  no  exception," 
said  Phelps  graciously. 

175 


1 7  6  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"Well,  it's  three  o'clock,"  rejoined  the  other 
with  a  grimace,  "and  thus  far  I  haven't  caught 
so  much  as  the  promise  of  a  retainer." 

"Get  in  then,"  said  Phelps,  making  room  for 
him,  "if  you  have  a  little  time  to  spare,  and  let 
me  see  if  I  can't  change  your  luck." 

"I  don't  know  any  better  way  to  do  so  than 
to  be  seen  hobnobbing  with  you,"  said  the 
other  gracefully,  as  he  took  his  seat. 

"Good,"  said  Phelps  with  a  laugh.  "The 
Marshal's  office,"  he  called  to  the  driver  as  he 
shut  the  door.  "You  ought  to  have  been  a 
courtier,  Major." 

"Just  my  luck,"  said  the  veteran  gayly.  "I 
tried  to  be  a  soldier  and  made  a  poor  out  at  it ; 
tried  to  grow  cotton  for  a  while ;  tried  my  hand 
at  speculation  ;  edited  a  paper;  got  a  clerkship, 
and  for  the  last  three  years  have  been  practic- 
ing law.  I  don't  think  I  have  been  a  stunning 
success  in  either  of  these  roles.  Perhaps  I 
ought  to  have  been  a  courtier,  as  you  say.  If 
you  know  of  an  opening  in  that  line  just  tip  me 
a  wink,  won't  you?" 

"Indeed,  I  will,  Major,"  said  the  successful 
lawyer,  with  an  admiring  glance  at  the  veteran, 
whose  seedy  clothes  were  worn  with  a  jaunti- 
ness  that  showed  how  foolish  it  was  for  fate  to 
try  to  break  his  spirit,  "but  just  now  I  have  a 
little  business  in  which  I  may  need  your  help." 


PROFESSIONAL  COURTESY.  177 

"Well,  that  will  do  while  we  are  waiting  for 
the  other.  What  is  it?" 

"Have  you  been  consulted  by  a  man  named 
Collins?" 

"Collins?  Collins?"  repeated  the  Major,  knit- 
ting his  brows.  "Candidly,  sir,  I  do  not  think 
that  among  the  limited  number  of  those  who 
have  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  consider  my 
services  indispensable  to  their  interests,  indeed, 
I  may  say  I  am  quite  sure — not  one  is  so  for- 
tunate as  to  bear  that  illustrious  patronymic. 
I  did  have  a  Washington  once — one  of  the 
genuine  stock,  too, — but  he  happened  to  belong 
to  the  colored  branch  of  the  family.  No,  I  have 
no  such  client  in  presenti,  or  so  far  as  I  know, 
in  prospectu." 

"Then  you  are  open  to  a  retainer  against  him  ?" 

"Open!  My  dear  sir,  it's  what  I've  been 
waiting  for  'from  days  to  which  the  memory  of 
man  runneth  not  to  the  contrary.'  ' 

"Consider  yourself  retained,  then,"  said  the 
other  carelessly,  handing  him  a  bill. 

"Thanks,  awfully,"  returned  the  veteran  as 
he  took  the  money,  "but  candidly,  Mr.  Phelps," 
he  added  with  a  wistful  look  in  his  eyes,  "this 
is  a  most  inconvenient  size  of  bill  for  me  to 
change — just  now." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  the  other  with  a 
deprecatory  wave  of  the  hand. 


178  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"Honor  bright?  You  didn't  expect  me  to 
break  it?" 

"Certainly  not." 

"Then  here  goes,"  he  said,  thrusting  the 
money  in  his  pocket.  "What's  the  business? 
I  don't  need  to  tell  you  I'm  obliged;  but  I  will 
tell  you,  that  your  ears  will  burn  when  my  wife 
gets  her  Christmas  present.  Candidly,  the  good 
Saint  missed  our  house  last  night,"  he  added 
with  a  shrug,  looking  out  of  the  window  of 
the  carriage  and  dashing  his  hand  across  his 
eyes. 

His  companion  pretended  not  to  notice  his 
embarrassment,  and  after  a  moment,  said  in  a 
perfectly  matter-of-fact  manner: 

"I  am  anxious  to  get  service  on  a  man  named 
Ephraim  Collins,  who  is  stopping  at  the  Best 
House,  at  once.  I'm  afraid  we  shall  not  find 
any  one  at  the  Marshal's,  but  you  can  arrange 
to  get  the  papers  into  his  hands  to-night,  I 
hope." 

"I'll  do  it  or  die  a-trying,"  answered  the 
Major  confidently.  "Slippery?" 

"Not  at  all;  you'll  have  plenty  of  time  after 
getting  your  present  for  the  Madame." 

"Business  first,"  said  the  veteran.  "That's 
always  been  my  motto,  and — you  see  what  it's 
brought  me  to,"  glancing  at  his  cloak. 

The  two  men  laughed  heartily — the  one  at 


PROFESSIONAL  COURTESY.  179 

his  companion's  invincible  good-nature,  the 
other  because  he  felt  like  laughing. 

"Here  are  the  papers,"  said  Phelps  drawing 
an  envelope  from  his  pocket.  "You  will  mark 
your  name  as  attorney,  please." 

"What  did  you  say  is  our  client's  name?" 

"I  have  the  honor  to  be  your  client." 

"What !  The  honor  is  mine,  sir.  Here,  I 
cannot  take  money  from  you,  sir."  The  gallant 
fellow's  face  fell,  but  he  pulled  the  bill  from  his 
pocket  and  handed  it  back  to  his  companion. 
"It  would  be  unprofessional,  you  know." 

"Allow  me  to  waive  my  privilege — thanking 
you  all  the  same." 

"I  can't  do  it,  sir;  besides,  the  privilege  of  rep- 
resenting you  will  be  ample  compensation — 
it  will  make  my  fortune,  sir."  He  pressed  the 
bill  into  the  other's  hand  as  he  spoke. 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  make  a  present  to 
your  wife,  Major?" 

"Really,  I  don't  see  that  I  could  object — 
your  reputation  is  not  bad  enough  to  justify 
me  in  doing  so,"  he  added  jocularly. 

"A  gift  would  lose  half  its  value  if  you  did 
not  carry  it,  and  really  my  time  is  very  much 
occupied.  Please  oblige  me.  Here  we  are  at 
the  Marshal's.  Good-day." 

He  slipped  the  bill  into  the  envelope  and 
handed  the  parcel  to  his  companion  as  he 


1 80  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

stood  upon  the  sidewalk.  The  door  closed 
and  the  cab  drove  away  before  the  one-armed 
veteran  had  a  chance  to  make  farther  objec- 
tion. 

"I've  heard  a  lot  of  kind  things  of  him,"  said 
the  latter,  looking  after  the  carriage  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  "but  this  beats  them  all.  Well,  he 
shan't  lose  anything  by  it  this  time.  Hello !" 
he  added  as  he  walked  up  the  marble  steps. 
"What's  this?  'Assignee  of  P.  P.  Smith.' 
Wonder  if  old  'Pepperpod'  has  turned  up 
again?" 


XV. 

BAFFLED   ENTERPRISE. 

THE  lawyer's  cab  halted  before  a  handsome 
residence  fronting  on  one  of  the  numerous 
little  parks  which  mark  the  intersection  of  the 
Streets  and  Avenues  of  the  capital  city.  Mr. 
Phelps  alighted,  went  up  the  steps  and  rang 
the  bell. 

"Can  I  see  Miss  Eva?"  he  asked  of  the  ser- 
vant who  opened  the  door. 

"She's  in  the  parlor,  answered  the  maid. 
"Walk  right  in,  sir;  'taint  hardly  a  minit  since 
the  young  man  from  your  office  come." 

"From  my  office!"  repeated  the  lawyer  in 
surprise. 

"So  he  said,  sir,  an'  a  nice  young  man  he  is, 
too.  He  said  he  wanted  to  see  Miss  Eva  on  a 
matter  of  great  importance  as  you  had  sent 
him  about." 

"Ah,"  said  the  lawyer  carelessly.  "You  may 
show  me  into  the  back  parlor,  if  you  please.  I 
must  see  Miss  Eva  about  quite  another  matter; 
but  there  is  no  haste.  You  need  not  disturb 
her;  she  knows  I  was  to  call  at  this  hour.  I 


1 8 2  PAC TOL US  PRIME, ' 

will  amuse  myself  until  she  is  at  liberty.  Here 
is  something  for  Christmas." 

He  dropped  a  coin  into  the  girl's  hand  and 
was  left  alone. 

The  portiere  between  the  rooms  was  only 
half-closed,  and  if  fully  drawn  could  hardly  have 
prevented  what  passed  in  the  one  from  being 
heard  in  the  other.  The  lawyer  walked  delib- 
erately across  the  room  in  order  that  his  pres- 
ence might  become  known,  seated  himself  at  a 
side  window  which  looked  out  upon  the  inter- 
secting avenue,  and  soon  became  conscious  of 
the  tenor  of  the  conversation  going  on  upon 
the  other  side  of  the  curtain. 

"I  thought  you  said  you  came  from  Mr. 
Phelps?"  a  woman's  voice  said  in  a  tone  of 
surprise. 

"Not  exactly  from  him,"  was  the  reply,  "but 
he  was  speaking  to  me  about  a  very  interesting 
matter  in  which  you  are  interested,  in  which  he 
was  to  play  the  part  of  the  good  St.  Nicholas. 
Of  course,  being  a  lawyer  he  could  not  divulge 
the  secrets  of  his  clients,  but — well,  he  intima- 
ted that  we  might  obtain  the  information  at 
headquarters;  so  I  came  straight  to  you.  The 
Index  always  gets  its  facts  at  first  hand  if  pos- 
sible." 

"I  really  do  not  understand  you,  Mr. 
Stearns,"  answered  the  lady  with  evident  cool- 


BAFFLED  ENTERPRISE.  183 

ness.  Something  in  the  tone  convinced  the 
lawyer  that  she  knew  her  words  were  heard  by 
him — that  indeed  she  intended  them  to  be. 

"Oh,  do  not  say  that,  Miss  Smith!" 

"Collins,  sir — my  name  is  Collins,"  said  the 
young  lady  severely.  "If  Mr.  Phelps  sent  you 
he  should  at  least  have  told  you  my  name." 

"Oh,  he  did  not  send  me,"  responded  the 
gentleman,  whom  he  now  recognized  as  the  re- 
porter Stearns ;  "indeed  he  did  not  know  of  my 
coming.  He  half-told  his  own  errand  .and  I 
found  out  the  rest.  You  are  not  the  happy 
recipient  then  of  the  munificent  Christmas  gift 
he  brought.  But  perhaps  you  can  tell  me 
something  about  this  lucky  Miss  Smith  into 
whose  mouth — no  doubt  a  charming  one — for- 
tune drops  such  exceptionally  succulent  plums." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  sir." 

"Ah,  I  beg  pardon.  The  matter  seems  to  be 
almost  as  elusive  as  it  is  romantic." 

"To  what  do  you  refer,  sir?" 

The  young  lady's  tone  was  icy  and  the  in- 
quirer was  evidently  not  making  very  satis- 
factory progress. 

"Can  it  be  possible  that  you  are  unacquain- 
ted with  the  romantic  episode  that  has  to-day 
transpired  touching  the  very  house  you  occupy? 
A  Mr.  Smith— P.  P.  Smith,"  he  repeated— "has 
given  property  amounting  to  more  than  a  hun- 


1 84  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

dred  thousand  dollars  in  value,  including  this 
very  house,  to  one  Eva  C.  Smith,  for  the  con- 
sideration of  one  dollar  and  natural  love  and 
affection." 

"She  is  very  fortunate." 

"But  you  do  not  know  her?" 

"I  have  no  acquaintance  with  any  such  per- 
son,"was  the  reply. 

"I  beg  pardon,  but  in  that  case  you  know 
nothing,  I  suppose,  of  Mr.  Smith,  either?" 

"Nothing,  sir." 

"It  is  very  strange,"  said  the  reporter  mus- 
ingly. "There  are  the  deeds  registered  in  due 
form,  covering  a  large  amount  of  property  evi- 
dently intended  as  a  gift,  and  neither  donor  nor 
donee  to  be  found  in  the  directory  or  known 
to  any  resident  of  the  District." 

"You  seem  to  have  taken  considerable 
trouble  in  the  matter." 

"I  have  been  on  the  track  of  Mr.  Smith  ever 
since  Mr.  Phelps  left  your  house  early  this 
morning." 

"And  you  find  no  trace  of  him?" 

"Oh  yes,  I  find  traces  enough, — deeds,  mort- 
gages, bonds — the  records  are  full  of  him.  For 
a  dozen  years  he  has  bought  and  sold  real  estate 
in  Washington,  usually  operating  with  singular 
sagacity.  He  is  supposed  to  be  a  man  of  large 
wealth,  but  nobody  appears  to  have  ever  seen 


BAFFLED  ENTERPRISE.  185 

him.  Almost  every  deed  he  has  given  has 
been  witnessed  and  proved  by  his  attorney, 
who  seems  to  have  been  the  only  man  who  is 
known  to  have  set  eyes  on  him  in  that  time. 
And  now  he  makes  a  deed  to  a  person  just  as 
hard  to  find  as  himself.  It  is  very  provoking!" 

"It  must  be,"  responded  the  young  lady 
tartly.  "Why  don't  you  have  a  law  passed 
that  no  one  shall  do  anything  interesting  with- 
out furnishing  the  details  to  the  newspapers? 
That  would  save  you  all  this  trouble." 

"Of  course,  it  is  funny  to  you,  but  to  a  re- 
porter who  has  to  make  his  living  by  finding 
out  things,  it  is  not  so  pleasant." 

"And  do  you  think  the  people  find  it  pleas- 
ant— those  into  whose  affairs  you  peep  and  pry 
to  gratify  a  morbid  curiosity  for  the  weakness 
and  misfortunes  of  others?  What  do  you  sup- 
pose they  think  of  such  as  you?" 

"One  has  to  live,"  said  the  reporter  with  a 
shrug. 

"Suppose  that  were  accounted  a  sufficient 
excuse  for  theft  and  burglary?" 

"But  our  business  is  not  unlawful,  Miss,"  re- 
torted the  reporter.  "It  may  be  unpleasant, 
but  no  one  can  claim  that  it  is  not  honorable. 
In  fact,  the  press  has  been  the  great  educator — 
the  great  civilizer  of  the  world." 

"The   press?     Oh,   you    mean    the  printing- 


1 86  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

press.  No  doubt  it  is  a  wonderful  power  for 
good  or  evil.  But  that  other  thing  that  calls 
itself  'the  press,'  the  great  scandal-monger  with 
its  army  of  thieves  and  spies — which  feeds  on 
filth  and  misfortune,  what  good  has  it  done? 
What  honor  is  there  in  its  service?" 

"You  are  too  hard  on  us  poor  reporters.  I 
assure  you — " 

"Spare  me  your  protests,  sir.  I  understand 
that  I  am  in  your  power  just  as  much  as  if  you 
were  a  burglar  with  a  deadly  weapon  in  your 
hand.  You  opened  my  door,  not  indeed  with  a 
false  key,  but  with  a  false  pretense — a  false 
token.  You  came  here  not  to  steal  money  or 
jewels  but  to  destroy  my  peace — to  blast  my 
good  name  if  you  could,  in  order  to  give  the 
readers  of  the  Index  a  sensation.  It  was  an 
honorable  purpose,  perhaps  I  should  say  a 
commendable  one!" 

"But  surely  so  good  a  deed  as  this — such  a 
munificent  act  of  generosity — you  cannot  think 
it  improper  to  wish  to  make  it  public?" 

"Then  why  not  make  it  public?  Why  not 
speak  of  it  as  an  act  of  princely  generosity? 
But  that  is  not  what  you  desire.  You  want  to 
find  something  mean — something  sinister — 
something  unworthy  in  it !  Nothing  but  shame 
and  depravity  will  satisfy  you.  Only  a  month 
ago,  a  man  gave  a  million  dollars  to  the  holiest 


BAFFLED  ENTERPRISE.  187 

cause  on  earth.  It  was  the  chief  part  of  the 
honorable  accumulations  of  a  life-time.  Twenty 
lines  told  all  you  thought  necessary  to  be  said 
about  this  man  and  his  gift.  On  the  same  day, 
a  man  paid  the  hundredth  part  of  the  sum  thus 
given,  by  compulsion  of  the  law,  to  remedy  a 
wrong  he  had  committed  ;  and  you  took  three- 
quarters  of  a  column  to  describe  the  man,  his 
victim,  and  the  wrong — in  other  words,  you  did 
all  in  your  power  to  make  his  long-deferred 
atonement  worthless  to  its  recipient." 

"I  wonder,  since  you  have  so  ill  an  opinion 
of  the  profession,  why  you  do  not  order  me 
out  of  your  presence — have  me  expelled  from 
the  house. — "  said  the  reporter,  exasperated  by 
her  taunts. 

"Oh,  I  dare  not,  sir.  I  am  in  your  power.  I 
must  submit,  not  only  quietly  but  smilingly,  to 
whatever  indignity  you  may  see  fit  to  put  upon 
me.  Ah,  no,  sir;  I  understand  too  well  the 
power  you  represent.  If  I  do  not  answer  your 
questions  I  know  you  will  make  me  an  object 
of  contempt  and  ridicule  to-morrow — perhaps 
even  an  object  of  suspicion.  I  have  no  idea 
what  figure  I  might  not  cut  in  your  columns,  if 
I  should  be  so  unfortunate  as  to  offend  you. 
You  might  make  the  neighbors  shrink  from 
me — close  the  doors  of  respectable  houses  in 
my  face,  and  make  a  thrill  of  horror  run  through 


1 88  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

the  hearts  of  the  assembled  worshipers,  if  I 
should  venture  inside  a  church  door!  Turn 
you  out?  Dear  me,  I  would  sit  here  until  I 
dropped  dead  rather  than  have  you  think  a  rep- 
sentative  of  the  Index  was  not  altogether  wel- 
come !  I  would,  I  think,  commit  suicide  rather 
than  let  you  know  how  I  despise  a  liar,  a  sneak, 
a  gossip, — who  prowls  about  the  doors  and 
steals  into  houses  to  find  out  things  people 
desire  to  keep  hidden  !  Oh,  I  want  you  to  give 
a  good  account  of  me!  I  do,  indeed,"  cried 
the  satirical  girl.  "In  the  first  place  you  must 
make  me  out  a  beauty." 

"I  could  not  well  help  doing  that,"  said  the 
reporter  gallantly. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  could ;  but  you  must  make  me 
a  smiling,  wicked,  ravishing  beauty.  You  must 
make  my  feet  some  sizes  smaller  than  they  are ; 
my  waist  to  measure  less  than  eighteen  inches ; 
go  into  raptures  over  my  hand, — not  forgetting 
to  hint  that  I  have  an  eminent  manicure  to  care 
for  the  nails;  turn  your  imagination  loose  on 
my  gown,  and  hint — only  just  hint,  remember — 
at  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  latent  wickedness 
in  my  charming  make-up!  You  will,  of  course, 
say  how  delighted  I  was  to  see  you ;  how  glad 
I  was  that — that  a  reporter — especially  such  a 
gallant,  attractive  and  discreet  reporter — was 
sent  by  the  Index  to  inquire  how  I  had  passed 


SAFFLED  ENTERPRISE.  189 

my  Christmas  and  what  I  thought  of  my  neigh- 
bors! 

"Oh,  yes,  and  you  might  add, — just  to  give  it 
a  little  spice  and  make  it  especially  interesting 
to  the  best  people  in  the  city, — that  Mr.  Phelps 
called  here  before  nine  o'clock  this  morning, 
stayed  exactly  forty-two  and  a  half  minutes, 
while  you  marched  up  and  down  the  other  side 
of  the  street  with  your  thumb  on  the  spring  of 
your  stop-watch,  waiting  for  him  to  come  out. 
You  might  add,  too,  that  he  found  it  hard  to  go 
away ;  that  after  he  had  opened  the  hall  door, 
he  closed  it  again,  came  back  and  stayed  some 
seconds  longer.  Being  a  man  of  unblemished 
reputation  and  having  a  family  he  adores,  you 
will  not  of  course  miss  an  opportunity  to  injure 
him  or  annoy  them.  You  might  say,  also,  that 
he  made  an  appointment  to  return  about  the 
time  you  called ;  that  while  you  were  here  a 
coupe  drove  up,  you  heard  the  bell  ring,  the 
front  door  open  and  shut,  and  some  one  was 
ushered  into  the  back  parlor,  where,  you  have 
no  doubt,  the  eminent  lawyer  sat  patiently 
awaiting  your  departure  that  he  might  once 
more  bask  in  the  smiles  of  the  fair  siren,  etc. 
etc! 

"That  is  what  you  will  do,  Mr.  Stearns,  be- 
cause you  wish  to  oblige  me  and  to  requite  the 
favor  a  good  man  has  shown  you.  If  you  do 


1 90  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

it — well,  I  shall  take  pleasure  in  sending  you  a 
check  for — really  I  do  not  know  what  is  the 
proper  fee  for  such  carrion-birds — but  whatever 
is  the  correct  thing,  that  you  will  receive !  You 
deserve  a  Christmas  gift ;  you  have  earned  one 
by  your  rugged  display  of  Christian  manhood ! 
Now  if  you  could  excuse  me,  sir," — the  girl  had 
evidently  risen  and  was  approaching  the  por- 
tiere— "if  it  is  not  asking  too  much — I  would 
like  to  go  to  Mr.  Phelps.  The  business  on 
which  he  has  called  is  of  importance,  and  he  is 
one  of  the  men  who  deserves  his  Christmas 
dinner — he  is  not  a  liar!" 

Even  the  reporter's  cheek  was  not  proof 
against  this  sarcastic  tirade.  He  interrupted 
the  angry  beauty  as  she  swept  across  the  room 
toward  the  portiere,  however,  and  said : 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Collins.  But  if 
you  will  allow  me — how  did  you  learn  these 
things? — how  did  you  know  I — " 

"How  did  I  know  you  had  dogged  Mr. 
Phelps's  steps,  and  would  call  on  me  to-day? 
Candidly,  I  knew  it  because  he  told  me  so. 
That  is  what  he  came  back  for.  He  said  there 
was  a  young  man  on  the  Index  whom  he  had 
unfortunately  recommended  as  a  gentleman, 
who,  guessing  something  from  a  remark  he 
had  accidentally  overheard,  was  following  his 
track  to  see  if  he  could  not  discover  what  the 


BAFFLED  ENTERPRISE.  191 

professional  honor  of  a  lawyer  had  prevented 
him  from  disclosing.  As  he  was  to  call  about 
this  time,  I  infer  that  he  is  the  visitor  whom 
you  no  doubt  heard  enter.  Perhaps  you  would 
like  to  meet  him  and  inquire  his  business.  He 
said  you  would  be  sure  to  call.  Just  step  this 
way,  please." 

The  reporter  drew  back.  At  that  moment 
Mr.  Phelps  pushed  aside  the  portiere  and 
entered  the  room. 

"Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  wait  in  my  cab 
outside,  Mr.  Stearns?  I  will  not  keep  you 
long." 

The  lawyer  spoke  quietly,  but  there  was  a 
light  in  his  blue  eye  that  prevented  any  parley. 
The  reporter  bowed  and  withdrew. 


XVI. 

AN   INTRACTABLE   DONEE. 

\TJELL?"  said  the  young  lady  as  soon  as 
VV  they  were  alone,  looking  anxiously  up 
into  the  lawyer's  eyes. 

"I  hope  you  have  not  lost  confidence  in  me, 
Miss  Smith?" 

"I  shall  if  you  call  me  by  that  name  again." 

"Yet  that  is  the  one  to  which  you  are  en- 
titled;  'Eva  Collins  Smith'  is  your  baptismal 
name." 

"I  will  have  it  changed — I  will  not  recognize 
it !  I  have  been  Eva  Collins  all  my  life  and 
will  change  the  name  for  no  other!" 

"Is  not  that  a  pretty  rash  vow  for  a  young 
lady  to  make?"  asked  the  lawyer  smilingly. 

"At  least,  until  I  see  good  reason  to  do  so," 
she  added  with  a  blush  and  a  laugh. 

"That  is  better,"  said  her  companion  ap- 
provingly. "Now  we  shall  get  on.  I  shall  call 
you  Miss  Collins,  then,  until  you  give  me  leave 
to  change  the  appellation.  Will  that  do?" 

"That  will  do,"  she  responded  gayly,  "and 
since  you  are  so  kind,  I  will  agree  never  to 
change  my  name  until  you  advise  me  to  do  so." 
192 


AN  INTRACTABLE  DONEE.  193 

"Oh,  don't  put  that  responsibility  on  me ;  I 
have  a  daughter  of  my  own,  remember." 

"You  do  not  know  how  I  envy  her." 

She  cast  down  her  eyes  and  the  blood 
surged  up  into  her  face. 

The  girl  was  hardly  more  than  eighteen, 
slight  and  fair.  The  eyes  that  had  met  the 
lawyer's  gaze  so  steadily  were  wide-open  gray 
ones,  framed  with  heavy  brows,  the  lids  fringed 
with  long,  dark  lashes.  Her  hair,  which  was  of 
a  neutral  brown,  was  abundant  and  worn  in  a 
simple  coil  at  the  back  of  the  head,  whose  per- 
fect outlines  were  thus  clearly  displayed.  A 
simple  dress  of  dark  blue  cloth,  a  hint  of  white 
at  wrist  and  neck,  with  a  dull  gold  pin  having 
a  flat  medallion  head,  shot  dagger-wise  across 
the  throat,  were  the  only  things  about  her  cos- 
tume that  attracted  the  lawyer's  attention  as  he 
scanned  face  and  figure  as  if  he  had  never  seen 
her  before. 

"Will  you  sit  down  and  tell  me  what  you 
know  about  yourself,  Miss  Collins?" 

He  extended  his  hand  as  if  to  offer  a  pledge 
of  sincerity.  The  girl  laid  her  left  upon  it.  A 
woman  seldom  uses  the  hand-clasp  as  a  pledge. 
She  gives  her  hand  as  a  token  of  assent,  surren- 
der, confidence,  but  rarely  as  a  pledge  of  pur- 
pose. When  custom  impels  her  to  do  so,  it 
is  apt  to  seem  mannish  and  unnatural.  In  this 


i 94  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

case,  the  gesture  was  an  instinctive  expression 
of  confidence  and  was  so  construed.  He  led 
her  to  a  sofa  and  they  sat  down. 

"I  did  not  ask  from  mere  curiosity,"  he  said 
after  a  moment,  not  apologetically  but  as  if  to 
make  it  easier  for  her  to  begin. 

"Oh,  I  understand,"  she  answered  absently. 
"I  was  thinking  what  to  say.  I  know  so  little," 
she  continued,  looking  up  at  him  with  earnest 
candor.  "If  you  would  ask  me  questions,  Mr. 
Phelps." 

Their  hands  rested  on  the  sofa  between 
them,  hers  still  clasped  in  his  as  if  she  had  for- 
gotten to  remove  it. 

"What  is  your  first  memory?  Where  did 
you  live?"  he  asked. 

"At  the  South." 

Her  eyes  had  fallen  to  the  floor  and  she  was 
unconsciously  following  a  figure  of  the  carpet 
with  the  toe  of  her  slipper  moving  between  it 
and  her  eyes. 

"Do  you  know  where?" 

"I  do  not.  I  was  very  young.  I  never  heard 
anything  about  it  afterward  and  was  afraid  to 
ask." 

"Why  afraid?" 

"I  hardly  know, — I  was." 

"Do  you  remember  the  house?" 

"It  was  a  large  one,  low  and  rambling,  not 


AN  INTRACTABLE  DONEE.  195 

stately  but  roomy.  I  should  say  it  was  un- 
painted,  though  that  seems  absurd.  There  was 
a  river  near,  in  front  I  think,  and  a  hillside 
sloping  down  to  it.  A  good  many  large  trees 
stood  about ;  and  back  of  it  were  barns  and  cul- 
tivated fields.  Somewhere  near  it,  I  seem  to 
remember  a  thick,  dark  growth  of  evergreens, 
coming  almost  up  to  the  house." 

"Do  you  remember  who  lived  there — occu- 
pied the  house,  I  mean?" 

"There  was  a  man  and  a  woman  and — ser- 
vants, I  think — I  am  not  sure." 

"Your  father  and  mother?" 

"I  suppose  so." 

"Can  you  describe  them?" 

"My  father, — I  am  almost  sure  he  was  my 
father, — but  I  don't  know  how  to  describe  him. 
I  cannot  remember  his  appearance,  yet  I  think 
I  should  know  him." 

"Does  the  photograph  I  brought  resemble 
him?" 

"I  think  so.  I  have  been  studying  it,  and  it 
seems  familiar.  What  I  remember  most  clearly 
is  that  he  was  always  busy.  I  think  he  em- 
ployed a  number  of  laborers  and  worked  with 
them.  He  must  have  been  very  fond  of  me, 
for  I  seem  to  recall  being  with  him  a  great 
deal.  I  think  I  used  to  ride  behind  him  on 
horseback." 


196  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"And  the  woman?" 

"Yes,  I  think  you  would  call  her  a  woman — 
that  is,  I  do  not  think  you  would  call  her  a  lady." 

The  girl  looked  up  at  him  fearlessly. 

"I  understand,"  he  answered  kindly.  "Can 
you  describe  her  appearance?" 

"I  think  she  resembled  me, — except  her  hair; 
that  was  lighter,  and  her  features  were  per- 
haps more, — well,  more  harmonious, — I  sup- 
pose, that  might  express  it." 

She  cast  down  her  eyes  again,  and  the  lawyer, 
noting  the  delicate  curve  of  her  neck  and  the 
softened  outline  of  the  jaw,  doubted  if  the  com- 
parison was  just.  He  had  seen  many  beautiful 
women,  but  thought  just  then  that  he  had 
never  seen  one  in  whom  there  were  clearer  evi- 
dences of  high  breeding.  Everything  about 
her,  from  her  frankness  of  manner  to  her  soft- 
ness of  outline,  confirmed  this  impression. 

"You  think  she  was  your  mother?" 

"I — I  suppose  so." 

The  lines  of  her  mouth  grew  somewhat 
harder  as  she  spoke. 

"You  called  her  by  what  name?" 

"Mammy." 

The  lawyer  started  as  she  pronounced  the 
word.  Almost  unconsciously  he  withdrew  his 
hand  from  hers.  It  was  that  unmistakable  pro- 
nunciation of  the  word,  by  which  the  Negro 


AN  INTRA  C TABLE  DONEE.  1 9 7 

child  designates  its  mother  and  the  white  child 
its  nurse. 

"Were  there  any  other  children?" 

"I — I  think  so.  I  think  my  father  was  a 
harsh  man." 

"To  whom?" 

"Everybody,  except  me.  He  must  have  been 
gentle  with  me  or  I  would  not  have  such  a 
tender  feeling  for  him, — I  can  hardly  call  it 
memory." 

"When  did  you  leave  this  place?" 

"I  don't  know.  Something  dreadful  hap- 
pened, something  I  ought  to  have  remem- 
bered,— but  I  don't, — and  that  is  the  end  of 
everything — everything !"  she  repeated,  spread- 
ing her  hands  before  her  as  if  to  show  how 
dense  a  wall  had  been  built  up  between  her 
and  her  childhood's  memories. 

"And  what  do  you  next  recall?  Where 
were  you  after  that?" 

"Here — in  Washington." 

"Where?     Can  you  describe  the  place?" 

"Oh,  perfectly.  We  must  have  lived  there 
until  I  was  nearly  ten  years  old." 

"Whom  do  you  mean  by  'we'  ?' 

"Pac — Uncle  Pac  and  I." 

"Was  there  no  one  else?" 

"Never,"  said  the  girl  positively.  "I  do  not 
remember  that  anybody  came  to  visit  us, 


I98  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

either.  Oh,  we  were  very,  very  happy  though. 
The  house  was  small  but  very  comfortable, — 
within,  I  mean  ;  outside  it  was  much  neglected. 
It  was  a  little  house  over  toward  Meridian  Hill, 
hardly  more  than  a  hut,  but  a  big  lot,  over- 
grown with  weeds  and  briars.  It  was  only  the 
front  that  was  neglected.  He  seemed  to  want 
it  to  look  as  if  nobody  lived  there.  I  remem- 
ber there  was  a  big  pokeberry  bush  that  grew 
almost  as  high  as  the  eaves,  just  at  the  corner 
of  the  house.  I  used  to  look  through  it  at 
the  Monument  and  wonder  why  it  seemed 
the  higher.  Then  there  were  raspberries  and 
mulleins,  weeds  of  all  sorts  which  made  the 
yard  a  thicket  from  one  stone  wall  to  the  other." 

"I  see,"  said  the  lawyer,  thoughtfully.  "And 
you  remained  there — how  long?" 

"Until  I  was  ten  years  old." 

"And  then?" 

"I  was  sent  to  the  Sisters." 

"In  Montreal,  I  think?" 

The  girl  nodded,  absently. 

"You  had  attended  school  before  that?" 

"Yes;  the  public  school  here." 

"Do  you  know  why  you  were  sent  away?" 

"I  can  only  guess.  One  of  the  teachers  came 
to  inquire  about  me.  She  wanted  to  know,  she 
said,  what  'an  old  nigger  like  Uncle  Pac'  was 
doing  with  a  little  white  girl  like  me." 


AN  INTRACTABLE  DONEE.  199 

"What  did  he  tell  her?" 

"That  I  was  his  old  master's  child — his  old 
master  who  was  dead, — and  that  he  was  taking 
care  of  me." 

"She  went  away  satisfied,  I  suppose?" 

"She  went  away,  and  in  a  few  days  he  took 
me  to  Montreal.  On  the  way,  he  told  me  the 
same  story.  I  never  believed  it,"  said  the  girl, 
looking  up  at  her  companion's  face. 

"Why  not?" 

"Uncle  Pac  laughed  after  the  teacher  went 
away,  and  said  she  was  mighty  smart,  but  not 
smart  enough  to  catch  him." 

"You  do  not'  think  you  are  his  old  master's 
child,  then?" 

"I  don't  know,"  casting  down  her  glance;  "I 
believe  my  mother  was  a — a  colored  woman." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"I  cannot  tell." 

"And  Uncle  Pac?" 

"He  is  somehow  related  to  me — I  think  to 
my  father;  he  never  mentions  my  mother, 
and  was  angry  with  me  once  for  asking  about 
her." 

"You  stayed  at  the  Sisters, — how  long?" 

"Five  years." 

"And  went  from  there  to  the  New  England 
College  at  which  you  graduated  last  summer?" 

"Yes." 


200  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"And  in  all  that  time  you  saw  no  relative, — 
heard  from  none?" 

"Only  Uncle  Pac." 

"Exactly,  and  when  you  came  back  it  was  to 
this  house?" 

"Yes." 

"You  have  a  companion?" 

"There  is  a  housekeeper." 

"A  lady?" 

"You  would  not  call  her  so.  A  widow, 
Southern — very  kind,  motherly  and  capable, 
but  not  exactly  what  you  would  call  a  lady." 

"Who  employed  her?" 

"Why,  she  says  you  did,  Mr.  Phelps," 
answered  the  girl  with  a  laugh.  "You  seem  to 
have  paid  all  my  bills,  too — at  least  your 
checks  did.  If  I  did  not  hate  to  think  ill  of 
you,  I  should  say  you  were  none  other  than 
Mr.  P.  P.  Smith  himself.  Indeed,  I  did  think 
so  until  this  very  day." 

"And  how  came  you  to  change  your  opin- 
ion?" he  asked  gravely,  though  his  face  flushed. 

"I  think  you  would  not  lie;  if  you  were  my 
father  you  would  tell  me  so." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  lawyer,  'rising  and 
walking  across  the  floor,  his  head  bowed  and 
biting  his  lip. 

"I  don't  mean  you  would  make  it  public,  but 
you  would  tell  me,"  she  said,  going  to  his  side, 


AN  IN TRA  C TABLE  DONEE .  2 o I 

laying  her  hand  on  his  arm  and  gazing  up  into 
his  face. 

"I — I  think  I  should/'  he  answered,  looking 
down  upon  her. 

"And  I,"  she  said  drawing  herself  up  proudly, 
"I  would  die  at  the  stake  before  the  fact 
should  ever  become  known  to  your  discredit. 
I  am  willing  to  hide  a  father's  shame  if  need 
be,  but  I  will  not  obliterate  myself  for  so  much 
money!" 

"You  persist  in  refusing  this  gift,  then?" 

"Unless  I  can  have  Uncle  Pac  to  live  with 
me.  He  furnished  me  a  home  and  cared  for 
me  as  a  child,  and  I  will  not  have  him  turned 
out  of  any  house  that  is  to  be  my  home.  He 
lived  here  until  the  day  I  was  expected ;  met  me 
at  the  station;  brought  me  here;  introduced 
me  to  the  housekeeper,  and  went  away.  Why 
should  he  treat  me  in  that  manner?" 

"You  wish  him  to  come  and  see  you,  now 
and  then?" 

"I  want  him  to  come  and  live  with  me — all 
the  time." 

"But  you  would  not  like  to  treat  him  as  an 
inferior?" 

"Why  should  I?" 

"You  know  that  if  you  treated  him  as  an 
equal — a  relative,  for  instance — you  could  not 
be  received  in  society  as — as — " 


202  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"As  a  lady,"  interrupted  the  girl.  "Yes, 
I  know  that.  You  yourself,  would  not  dare 
treat  me  as  an  equal.  You  would  not  think  of 
introducing  me  to  your  daughter,  of  asking  me 
to  your  table.  Perhaps  you  would  not  even 
care  to  be  seen  ringing  the  bell  at  my  door !  Oh, 
I  understand  what  it  is  to  be  considered  a  col- 
ored person,  more  especially  a  colored  woman ! 
I  know  that  no  merit,  no  ability,  no  refinement, 
no  accomplishment,  can  put  me  on  a  level  with 
even  the  lowest  born  and  most  vulgar  white 
woman  of  the  land.  It  matters  not  how  slight 
the  trace  of  color  nor  what  the  attendant  come- 
liness. The  greater  the  beauty,  indeed,  the 
more  terrible  the  curse.  No  white  woman  can 
call  cuch  an  one  her  friend  ;  no  white  man  offer 
her  love  that  is  not  an  insult ! 

"When  I  thought  that  you  were  my  father, 
that  you  were  trying  to  make  atonement,  and 
desired  to  place  me  beyond  suspicion  of  a  par- 
entage that  might  entail  illimitable  sorrow,  I 
said  to  myself  that  if  you  trusted  me,  if  you 
confided  in  me  and  gave  me  a  little  love,  I 
would  consent  that  it  should  be  hidden  for 
your  sake.  You  see,  I  hoped  that  you  would 
be  proud  of  me ;  and  I  worked  hard  to  make 
myself  deserving  of  your  pride.  It  was  your 
name  on  the  checks,  you  see, — this  and  the 
remembrance  of  my  early  days  that  put  such 


AN  INTRACTABLE  DONEE.  203 

thoughts  in  my  mind.  I  think  I  was  almost 
glad  to  be  the  child  of  your  shame,  for  I 
thought — well,  I  thought  I  would  make  you 
forget  my  origin ! 

"Don't  stop  me!  I  want  to  say  it  and  have 
it  over;  besides  we  shall  be  separated,  soon. 
The  bottomless  pit  lies  between  us.  God  may 
bridge  it  over,  but  man  never  can.  You  are  a 
good  Christian,  but  if  Christ  were  black  you 
would  not  dare  ask  Him  to  your  table !  I 
know  you  pity  me.  I  see  you  do  not  think 
meanly  of  me,  but  if  I  were  the  loveliest  and 
most  gifted  woman  in  the  world,  and  your  son 
loved  me,  you  would  bid  him  pluck  his  heart 
out  of  his  bosom  rather  than  think  of  giving  it 
to  me.  Nay,  if  he  were  insane  enough  to  think 
of  marriage,  and  I  was  weak  enough  to  give 
assent,  you  would  order  your  door  shut  in  his 
face  and  pass  him  by  unrecognized  on  the 
streets!" 

"Of  course,"  said  the  lawyer,  frowning  until 
his  gray  eyebrows  met.  "Society  is  stronger 
than  any  man,  and  society  is — white !" 

"Yes,"  she  responded,  "and  the  world  is 
white — Christianity  is  white !  Only  the  refuse 
and  the  dregs  of  either  are  possible  to  the  col- 
ored man  or  woman !" 

She  let  go  his  arm  and  went  and  stood  look- 
ins  out  of  the  window. 


204  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"That  is  true — in  a  sense,"  answered  the 
lawyer,  hesitatingly.  "It  will  change,  though, 
— in  time." 

"  'And  there  shall  be  a  new  heaven  and  a 
new  earth !' "  quoted  the  girl  with  mocking 
emphasis. 

"Oh,  there  will  come  a  time  before  that,"  he 
insisted,  eagerly.  "When  the  colored  race  shall 
have  acquired  wealth,  intelligence  and  power — ' 

"Will  it  make  them  white?"  she  asked,  turn- 
ing upon  him  a  pale,  set  face. 

"No,  certainly  not — but  then — 

"I  am  rich,  am  I  not — or  may  be,  at  least?" 

"Yes." 

"I  do  not  lack  intelligence?" 

"Far  from  it." 

"You  do  not  deem  me  without  attractions?" 

"You  are  very — charming,  shall  I  say?" 

"If  I  were  known  to  be  of  colored  blood  to- 
morrow, would  not  the  poorest  and  meanest 
white  girl  in  the  city  be  deemed  my  superior?" 

"Probably;  but  you  know  the  time  must 
come  when  the  colored  race  will  form  a  society 
of  its  own,  and  know  how  to  recognize  each 
other's  merits." 

"Ah !"  she  said,  coming  toward  him  with  an 
angry,  impatient  gesture.  "Then  you  think 
society  will  assume  a  dual  form ;  there  is  to  be 
a  white  aristocracy  and  a  black  aristocracy,  a 


AN  INTRACTABLE  DONEE.  205 

white  people  and  a  black  people,  a  white  church 
and  a  black  church !  Each  is  to  be  a  duplicate 
of  the  other! 

Les  belles  dames  font  comme  ca  ! 
Les  beaux  messieurs  font  comme  93  !  " 

she  sang  mockingly,  curtseying  daintily  as  she 
did  so.  "Oh,  what  a  pretty,  peaceful  world  we 
shall  have !  Will  you  go  farther  and  have  a 
Black  Christ  as  well  as  a  White  Christ?  I  sup- 
pose they  will  maintain  'fraternal  relations,' 
while  strictly  avoiding  all  approach  to  equality. 
Shall  we  have  a  dual  millennium,  too?  And  a 
separate  heaven  for  each?  Or  will  the  saints 
all  be  white,  as  Uncle  Pac  says  they  used  to  aver 
they  would  be,  'in  the  good  old  slave-times'?" 

''I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  speak  so  bitterly, 
Miss  Eva,"  said  the  lawyer  with  respectful  sym- 
pathy in  his  tone.  He  came  closer  to  her  as  he 
spoke,  as  if  to  give  emphasis  to  his  good  will. 

"Do  you  blame  me?"  she  asked,  looking  up 
at  him  almost  fiercely.  "Would  you  not  rather 
see  your  daughter  dead  than  in  my  place? 
Would  you  not  rather  be  dead  yourself  than 
suffer  the  contamination  of  a  single  drop  of  col- 
ored blood?  Talk  about  Christ!  What  was 
the  agony  of  the  Cross  to  the  humiliation  of  a 
colored  man  in  a  white  world?  For  the  world 
is  white — I  know  that — my  world — the  world 
of  ambition,  art,  literature,  society,  the  world 


206  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

that  contains  all  that  one  loves  to  enjoy — the 
world  which  it  is  life  to  be  a  part  of,  and  worse 
than  death  to  be  shut  out  from — this  is  white — 
all  white — pure  white !  All  else  is  foul,  infe- 
rior— tolerated  only !" 

The  young  girl  twisted  her  fingers  about  each 
other  in  agony.  The  lawyer  looked  at  her  in 
surprise.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  real- 
ized the  process  through  which  the  intelligent 
young  colored  American  must  always  go,  before 
our  Christian  civilization  reduces  him  finally  to 
his  proper  level  of  "essential  inferiority." 

"It  is  for  this  very  reason,"  he  said  at  length, 
"that  I  wished  you  should  not  be  precipitate  in 
declaring  your  affinity  with  this  unfortunate 
race.  Your  father  is  wise  as  well  as  considerate, 
in  desiring  that  no  suspicion  of  such  parentage 
should  attach  to  you.  Believe  me,  my  dear 
young  lady,  it  is  for  this  reason  alone  that  he 
has  taken  the  step  which  is  so  distasteful  to 
you." 

"You  think  he  is  not  ashamed  of  me, — of  his 
relation  to  me?"  she  asked  eagerly. 

"He  loves  you  more  than  anything  else  on 
earth !" 

The  lawyer  put  his  hand  upon  her  head  as 
he  spoke,  as  if  she  had  been  a  child  who  needed 
to  be  assured  of  his  sympathy.  The  words 
and  the  act  moved  her  visibly. 


AN  INTRACTABLE  DONEE.  207 

"Perhaps  he  has  others  whom  he  must  con- 
sider,— to  whom  he  owes  duty?" 

Her  lips  trembled  and  tears  gathered  on  her 
lids. 

"He  thinks  of  you  only;  you  are  his  only 
child." 

"What !  Why,  then — I  don't  understand — 
why  does  he  seek  to  conceal  our  relationship? 
Is  there  any — any  disgrace  in  it?" 

She  hesitated  and  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"You  are  his  only  child,  born  in  lawful  wed- 
lock, and  would  inherit  all  he  offers  you  to-day 
and  more,  upon  his  death  !" 

"Then  why — why  this  mystery?" 

"He  does  not  wish  it  to  be  known  that 
you  are  his  daughter.  If  you  took  by  in- 
heritance, that  fact  could  not  be  concealed." 

"But  how  would  that  hurt  him,  especially  if 
he  were  dead?" 

"It  is  not  of  himself,  child,  that  he  is 
thinking,"  answered  the  lawyer  almost  im- 
patiently. "It  is  of  you.  Can  you  not  see?" 

"Ah !"  she  exclaimed  with  a  gasp,  sinking 
into  a  chair.  There  was  a  moment's  silence. 
She  was  looking  straight  at  the  wall  before  her, 
apparently  oblivious  of  the  fact  that  she  was 
not  alone. 

"Then  he  is  a  colored  man,  himself,"  she  said 
after  a  while. 


208  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

The  lawyer  did  not  answer. 

"And  wishes  to  save  me  from  what  he  has 
suffered?" 

Her  companion  was  still  silent. 

"His  name  is — ?" 

"The  one  attached  to  the  deed." 

"You  have  seen  him?" 

"Yes." 

"And  this  is  all  true?" 

She  gazed  at  him  keenly  as  she  asked  the 
question. 

"Entirely." 

"You  think  it  would  grieve  him  if  I  should 
not  do  as  he  wishes?" 

"It  would  well-nigh  break  his  heart." 

"He  is, — a  worthy  man?" 

"One  of  whom  any  daughter  might  be 
proud  !"  There  was  an  unmistakable  enthusi- 
asm in  the  lawyer's  tones. 

"You  think  he  will  let  me  know  him — some 
day?" 

"I  hope  so."     His  voice  was  getting  husky. 

"Tell  him — I — I  will  do  as  he  wishes." 

"Thank  you,  in  his  name!"  exclaimed  the 
lawyer,  holding  out  his  hand.  She  gave  him 
hers,  the  right  one  this  time. 

"I  must  go  now,"  he  said  cheerfully.  "I  will 
see  you  again  in  a  day  or  two." 

She  walked  beside  him  toward  the  door. 


AN  INTRACTABLE  DONEE.  209 

"But,  Uncle  Pac,"  she  asked,  halting,  when 
she  had  taken  a  step  or  two." 

"He  is  very  comfortably  situated." 

"That  is  not  enough ;  he  must  come  back — 
to  his  old  place.  I  cannot  enjoy  any  good  for- 
tune he  does  not  share." 

"But  that  will  have  to  be —  "  he  hesitated. 

"Of  course ;  I  understand. — He  is  my  father's 
old  servant,  though,  as  well  as  my  faithful 
guardian,  and  must  not  be  separated  from  me. 
That  much,  I  will  not  yield." 

"Well,"  said  the  lawyer  thoughtfully,  biting 
his  lip,  "I  think  it  can  be  arranged." 

-"When  will  he  come?" 

"To-morrow,  perhaps." 

"He  must  come  to-night.  I  cannot  enjoy 
my  Christmas  without  him." 

"Very  well;  I  will  send  him." 

She  held  out  her  hand.  The  lawyer  took  it 
in  both  his  own. 

"Good-by,"  he  said,  hesitating  for  a  moment, 
then  adding,  "I — I  am  glad  to  have  known 
you,  Miss  Eva — and  hope  to  see  more  of  you — 
some  time — some  time  when — when — 

"  When  right  is  wrong  and  day  is  night, 
When  morn  is  eve  and  black  is  white  !  " 

she  repeated.  "It  will  never  come,  Mr.  Phelps. 
The  Christ  may  be  the  Saviour  of  both  races; 
but  He  will  never  make  the  white  man  willing 


2io  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

to  do  justice  to  the  Negro.  He  may  perhaps 
change  the  colored  man's  skin — even  if  he  has 
to  blanch  it  with  shame — but  he  will  never 
change  the  white  man's  heart.  That  is  too 
great  a  miracle  to  hope  for!" 

"But  you  do  not  doubt  my  regard?" 

"I  think  you  pay  me  the  very  highest  com- 
pliment." 

"What  is  that?" 

"You  wish  I  were  white  that  you  might  wel- 
come me  to  your  home." 

"It  is  true,"  said  the  lawyer  as  he  withdrew. 
He  paused  in  the  vestibule  to  wipe  his  eyes 
and  draw  on  his  gloves. 


XVII. 

THE  BOUNDARY  OF   RIGHT. 

THE  reporter  of  the  Index  was  shivering  in 
the  cab  and  the  driver  was  stamping  up 
and  down  the  pavement,  whipping  his  hands 
together  as  he  waited  impatiently  for  his  fare. 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  kept  you  waiting  so 
long,"  said  the  lawyer  as  he  ran  down  the  steps 
and  took  his  seat. 

"Oh,  it's  all  right,"  responded  the  driver 
cheerfully ;  "it's  all  the  same,  here  or  elsewhere. 
There  are  only  so  many  hours,  even  on  Christ- 
mas day." 

"I  am  not  so  philosophical,"  growled  the  re- 
porter. "If  you  meant  this  as  a  penance,  Mr. 
Phelps,  you  made  it  severe." 

"I  was  delayed  longer  than  I  expected  to  be," 
answered  the  other  gravely ;  "but  you  have  no 
right  to  complain." 

"I  know  you  are  angry  with  me,  Mr.  Phelps," 
said  the  young  man  with  boyish  frankness, 
"and  I  am  sorry  for  it ;  that's  why  I  waited  all 
this  time.  But  really,  you  ought  not  to  blame 
me;  I  was  only  acting  in  the  line  of  profes- 
sional duty,  you  know." 


212  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"That  is  never  a  duty  which  requires  one  to 
forget  that  he  is  a  gentleman,"  was  the  severe 
reply. 

"You  refer  to  that  little  fib  about  coming 
from  you?"  laughed  the  young  man.  "Well,  it 
was  rather  shaky,  though  it  ought  not  to  have 
taken  any  one  in.  There  it  was,  as  plain  as 
print  can  make  it,  on  the  card  I  sent  in :  '  The 
Index'  Anybody  ought  to  know  that  nobody 
but  a  reporter  would  wear  that  brand.  It  won't 
do  for  a  newspaper  man  to  stand  on  as  small 
a  matter  as  that,  Mr.  Phelps.  He'd  get 
'scooped'  every  day  if  he  did." 

"I  do  not  refer  to  the  falsehood,"  said  the 
elder  man,  "though  that  is  not  a  matter  for  a 
gentleman  to  boast  of;  but  I  do  not  care  to 
engage  in  a  casuistical  discussion  as  to  whether 
falsehood  is  or  is  not  ever  justifiable.  In  this 
case  it  clearly  was  not.  Your  purpose  was 
even  more  unworthy  than  your  conduct." 

"Why  do  you  say  that?" 

"You  went  there  to  gain,  by  deceit  and  false 
representation,  knowledge  in  regard  to  a  purely 
private  matter  which  had  already  been  court- 
eously refused  when  you  asked  it  openly." 

"One  cannot  expect  to  keep  even  personal 
matters  secret  in  these  days,"  said  the  young 
man  sulkily.  "People  want  to  know  what  is 
going  on,  and  demand  that  the  newspaper 


THE  BOUNDARY  OF  RIGHT.  213 

should  tell  them.  That's  our  business.  The 
time  has  gone  by  when  a  man  could  shut  his 
castle's  gate  in  the  world's  face  and  do  what  he 
chose  within  its  walls.  We  don't  live  in  the 
Middle  Ages  nowadays.  The  newspaper  turns 
on  the  light  and  lets  the  world  see  what  is  being 
done.  I  am  one  of  the  servants  of  this  great 
force,  and  cannot  afford  to  'get  left.' " 

The  boy  spoke  confidently — almost  boast- 
fully. 

"It  makes  no  difference  in  what  age  we  live," 
said  the  other  calmly;  "the  line  between  pri- 
vate right  and  public  privilege  must  always  re- 
main the  same.  A  man  has  a  right  to  keep  his 
personal  affairs  to  himself  as  long  as  he  does  no 
harm  to  others  thereby." 

"Certainly,"  was  the  jaunty  response,  "and 
others  have  a  right  to  find  them  out,  if  they 
can !" 

"It  is  not  an  indictable  offense ;  if  that  is  what 
you  mean,"  was  the  cool  reply. 

"The  newspaper  would  be  mighty  dry  read- 
ing if  we  did  not  report  any  one's  personal 
affairs." 

"No  doubt; 'and  it  is  quite  right  that  the 
newspaper  should  report  personal  matters,  if 
they  do  not  seek  to  pry  into  those  which  peo- 
ple do  not  desire  to  make  public." 

"People  should  not  do  things  that  will  not 


214  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

bear  telling,  if  they  do  not  want  us  to  get  hold 
of  them." 

"Yet  every  one  does  things  which  are  not 
only  harmless  but  even  praiseworthy,  the  tell- 
ing of  which  could  only  give  sorrow  and  pain 
without  accomplishing  any  possible  good." 

"Perhaps,"  responded  the  young  man  hesi- 
tantly, "but  where  shall  we  draw  the  line?" 

"Whenever  any  one  seeks  to  conceal  an  act 
which  is  evidently  harmless  in  its  nature,  a 
gentleman  will  never  seek  to  pry  into  it  farther. 
When  one  passes  that  limit  he  becomes  a  mere 
gossip,  worthy  only  of  the  contempt  of  honor- 
able men." 

"You  think  I  had  no  right  to  inquire  into  the 
secret  of  this  unusual  gift?" 

"If  there  is  any  secret — certainly  not.  The 
deed  is  of  record ;  that  is  enough." 

"But  the  man?  People  have  a  legitimate 
interest  in  men  who  do  unusual  things." 

"A  man  has  a  right  to  avoid  publicity  if  he 
desires,  so  long  as  the  fact  works  no  harm  to 
others." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,  but  how  was  I  to 
know?" 

"You  would  not  have  thought  of  sneaking 
into  my  house  to  learn  the  contents  of  the  stock- 
ing my  daughter  hung  in  the  chimney-corner, 
in  the  good  old-fashioned  way,  last  night." 


THE  BO  UNDAR  Y  OF  RIGHT.  2 1 5 

"Probably  not,  for  you  would  not  have 
thought  of  concealing  it." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  did  take  especial  pains  to 
conceal  it.  As  it  happens,  I  wanted  to  make 
her  a  present  of  a  few  thousand  dollars  of 
bonds,  and  I  took  pains  to  have  them  regis- 
tered in  another  name  and  then  transferred  to 
her,  just  to  save  her  from  this  very  annoyance 
of  a  newspaper  report.  Now  that  I  have  told 
you,  I  suppose  you  will  feel  justified  in  publish- 
ing the  fact." 

"Most  certainly  I  shall  not,"  said  the  re- 
porter indignantly. 

"Yet,  when  I  told  you  that  another  matter 
could  not  be  made  public  without  injury,  or  at 
least  annoyance,  you  still  felt  justified  in  seek- 
ing to  ferret  out  the  details,  and  even  lying  to 
attain  your  purpose." 

"Well,  you're"  not  complimentary,  anyhow," 
laughed  the  young  man,  "any  more  than  Miss 
Collins  was.  You  heard  what  she  said,  I  sup- 
pose?" 

"Yes;  learning  that  you  had  come  as  my  am- 
bassador, I  thought  I  had  a  right  to  hear  what 
you  would  say  in  my  name." 

"Oh,  of  course;  but  isn't  she  a  stunner? 
Have  you  known  her  long?" 

"I  have  known  her  father  for  many  years," 
said  the  lawyer  indifferently. 


216  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"Oh,  I  don't  care  about  her  father,  but  Miss 
Collins — where  has  she  been?  How  has  she 
managed  to  live  in  Washington  and  not  make  a 
sensation?" 

"She  has  been  away  at  school  for  eight,  per- 
haps ten,  years." 

"Oh,  you  know  all  about  her  then." 

"I  ought  to,"  answered  the  lawyer  with  a 
smile.  "My  checks  paid  her  bills." 

"You  don't  say?  And  yet  I  never  heard  of 
her.  Who  is  her  father?" 

"I  thought  you  didn't  care." 

"Neither  do  I ;  but  I  would  like  to  let  her 
know  I  am  something  more  than  what  she 
seemed  to  think  me." 

"You  can  easily  do  that." 

"How?" 

"By  saying  nothing  in  the  Index  concerning 
her  or  the  matter  on  which  you  called." 

"But  if  the  other  fellows  should  get  hold  of 
it—." 

"You  need  not  fear.  I  will  answer  for  your 
having  the  earliest  information,  if  it  ever  be- 
comes proper  to  say  anything.  You  may  as 
well  understand,  too,  that  I  hold  the  key  of  the 
situation ;  and  I  do  not  mind  telling  you  that 
it  would  be  the  easiest  matter  in  the  world  for 
you  to  run  the  Index  into  a  libel  suit  which 
would  cost  more  than  many  reporters." 


THE  BOUNDARY  OF  RIGHT.  217 

"The  Index  does  not  scare  easily,"  said  the 
young  man,  coolly. 

"And  you  are  aware  that  I  never  give  a  cau- 
tion, lightly,"  answered  the  lawyer  with  a  quiet 
smile. 

"Of  course,"  said  the  reporter  with  a  shrug; 
"and  a  row  of  that  kind  would  lay  me  on  the 
shelf.  I  understand  all  that."  He  paused  a 
moment,  then  added:  "I  am  sorry  to  have  in- 
curred your  displeasure,  Mr.  Phelps,  but  how  is 
a  poor  reporter  to  know  what  he  may,  and  what 
he  may  not  do?" 

"The  line  between  the  gentleman  and  the 
gossip  is  not  very  hard  to  trace." 

"You  would  call  it  the  'reportorial  con- 
science,' I  suppose?"  • 

"I  would  call  it  the  instinct  of  a  gentleman; 
that  fine  old  word  is  good  enough  and  should 
not  be  allowed  to  go  out  of  fashion." 

"And  how  shall  I  regain  your  good  will?" 
asked  the  reporter,  contritely,  as  they  neared 
the  office. 

"One  shows  himself  most  a  man  by  making 
stepping-stones  of  his  mistakes,"  answered  the 
lawyer,  extending  his  hand. 

"Do  you  think  Miss  Collins  could  be  induced 
to  subscribe  to  that  doctrine?"  The  young 
man's  face  flushed  as  he  asked  the  question. 

"I — I — hope  so,"  said  Mr.  Phelps  with  a  start, 


218  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

Curiously  enough  it  cost  him  an  effort,  though 
he  could  hardly  have  told  why. 

They  drew  up  at  the  Index  office  and  the 
young  man  alighted  and  ran  up  the  steps  to 
the  editorial  rooms. 


XVIII. 

AN   UNEXPECTED   CALL. 

HARDLY  had  the  lawyer  departed  than  the 
young  lady  whom  he  had  twice  visited 
that   day,  rang   the   bell   and    summoned  her 
housekeeper.-    A  woman  with  soft,  white  hair 
and  a  timid,  apprehensive  look,  responded. 

"You  will  get  Uncle  Prime's  room  ready, 
Mrs.  Macey." 

"Is  he  coming  back?"  asked  the  woman 
hesitantly. 

"I  look  for  him  at  any  moment,"  answered 
the  young  lady  in  a  tone  of  unconcealed 
delight. 

"And  he  will  have  the  room  over  the  back 
parlor?" 

"Cerainly — the  one  next  to  mine.  The  dear 
old  man  has  cared  for  me  so  faithfully  that  I 
am  never  going  to  let  him  go  out  of  my  sight 
again,  for  a  whole  day  at  a  time.  He  has  given 
up  that  horrid  boot-blacking  business  of  his — 
sold  it  to  the  young  man  who  works  with  him — 
and  will  have  nothing  to  do  now  except  to  think 
he  is  taking  care  of  me,  while  I,  in  fact  look  out 
for  him." 

219 


220  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"But,  Miss  Eva,  would  it  not  be  better — I 
beg  your  pardon — "  stammered  the  woman, — 
"does  Mr.  Phelps  know  that  you  intend  to  give 
this — this  old  colored  man  the  best  room  in  the 
house?" 

"What  difference  does  it  make  whether  he 
does  or  not !"  exclaimed  the  young  lady  sharply. 
"This  is  my  house — and  I  do  not  need  any- 
body's instructions  as  to  what  I  shall  do  in  it !" 

"So  I  'spose,  Miss  Eva,  but  I  promised  Mr. 
Phelps  I  would  advise  you  as  if  you  \vas  my 
own  daughter,  and  never  let  you  go  wrong 
without  speaking.  I  don't  doubt  but  Uncle 
Prime  is  a  good  man,  and  you  ought  to  be 
grateful  to  him  for  taking  care  of  you  and  your 
property  so  many  years — but  you  know,  my 
dear,  he — he's  black!" 

"Suppose  he  is.  Haven't  I  a  right  to  treat 
a  man  who  has  been  more  than  a  father  to  me, 
as  well  as  I  would  a  pet  dog?  Please  to  under- 
stand, Mrs.  Macey,  that  he  is  to  be  treated  with 
as  much  respect  as  the  whitest  man  in  the 
world.  He  will  take  his  meals  in  his  own  room, 
because  he  insists  on  doing  so — but  otherwise 
he  will  be  treated  exactly  as  I  should  wish  my 
father  to  be,  were  he  under  my  roof." 

"I'm  sure,  I  haven't  any  objection,  Miss 
Eva,"  said  the  housekeeper,  "but — what  will 
your  friends  say?" 


UNEXPECTED  CALL.  221 

"I  haven't  many — not  in  the  city  at  least — 
and  want  none  who  would  have  me  forget  what 
I  owe  to  this  devoted  old  servant." 

"As  you  please,  Miss,"  said  the  housekeeper 
curtly,  "but  I  can't  help  thinking  that  your 
father  would  rather  you  had  given  Uncle  Pac 
the  front  room  in  the  basement.  I've  no  doubt 
he'd  be  more  contented  there,  too.  That  and 
the  kitchen  is  all  he  occupied  when  he  lived 
here ;  he  must  have  done  his  own  cooking,  too, 
by  what  I  hear;  and  the  girl  says  his  things  are 
all  there  yet,  which  I  presume  is  true,  for  he 
hasn't  given  up  the  key.  I've  never  seen  the 
inside  of  it." 

"What  do  you  know  about  my  father?"  asked 
the  girl  eagerly. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  much  about  him,"  an- 
swered the  woman,  meaningly. 

"Do  you  know  him?"  the  young  lady  re- 
peated. 

"Of  course  I  don't  know  him  ;  but  don't  you 
suppose  his  name  is  Collins:  I  happen  to  know 
something  about  the  Collins  family.  You  don't 
look  like  'em — not  a  mite ;  though  I  must  say 
you  act  enough  like  'em  to  make  up  for  it. 
But  la,  child,  you  ain't  no  Collins,  more'n  I  am. 
If  Mr.  Phelps  ain't  your  father,  then  it's  some- 
body mighty  close  to  him.  But  whoever  'tis, 
he  means  to  take  care  of  you  and  do  right  by 


222  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

you.  People  don't  give  girls  care  and  schooling 
and  end  up  with  such  presents  as  you've  had 
to-day,  unless  they've  got  some  interest  in 
them." 

"How  did  you  learn  these  things?" 

"Why,  you  told  me  about  the  present,  your- 
self, honey!" 

"Yes;  but  the  other  things?" 

"How?  Why,  this  same  old  black  man, 
Prime,  told  me  the  day  Mr.  Phelps  sent  me 
here.  He  didn't  exactly  say  so,  of  course — but 
you  jest  depend  upon  it,  Miss  Eva,  this  old 
nigger  hain't  lost  nothin'  takin'  care  of  you. 
He's  feathered  his  nest — you  make  sure  of  that ! 
The  front  basement  room's  plenty  good  enough 
for  him — plenty  good  enough.  It's  my  opin- 
ion the  best  thing  about  him  is  his  name.  I 
don't  see  where  he  got  that,  nor  what  makes 
every  one  that  comes  near  him  think  he's  such 
an  extr'ordinary  good  man.  /  think  he's  de- 
ceitful— that's  what  I  think!" 

"Mrs.  Macey,"  said  the  young  mistress  with 
cool  decision,  "I  have  listened  to  you,  because  I 
wished  to  know  exactly  how  far  your  imagina- 
tion would  carry  you.  While  it  is  true  enough 
that  I  did  not,  until  to-day,  know  my  paren- 
tage, it  is  now  no  longer  a  mystery.  I  know 
who  is  my  father.  I  am  his  only  child  and  his 
lawful,  heir.  You  see  what  injustice  your  sus- 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL.  223 

picions  have  done  to  a  good  man.  Go  now, 
and  prepare  the  room  for  Uncle  Prime,  as  I 
directed." 

"Of  course,  Miss,"  said  the  elder  woman  with 
curious  submissiveness,  "it's  for  you  to  say.  I 
promised  faithfully  to  advise  you — and  I've 
done  it.  I  hain't  no  call  to  do  no  more.  I'm 
sure  it's  very  nice  of  you  to  be  so  good  to  an 
old  colored  man.  There  ain't  many  would 
think  of  such  a  thing,  and  I'm  afraid  you'll  rue 
it.  There  ain't  ever  any  good  comes  of  tryin'  to 
make  white  folks  out  of  niggers.  White  folks 
may  git  to  be  niggers,  but  niggers  can't  ever  git 
to  be  white  folks.  It  may  seem  to  be  all  right 
for  a  time,  but  in  the  end  there  won't  nothin' 
but  misery  and  misfortin'  come  on't.  That's 
what  I  honestly  b'lieve,  Miss  Eva,  and  I  ought 
to  know.  That's  the  reason  I  said  what  I  did. 
I  don't  want  to  hurt  you  nor  do  any  one  harm, 
but  I  do  want  to  keep  you  from  doing  what 
might  bring  you  tears.  God  knows  I  do  !"  said 
the  woman  passionately.  "I've  done  enough 
harm  to  want  to  do  nothing  but  good  the  rest 
of  my  life,  and  if  God'll  help  me  I  will!" 

She  looked  upward  for  a  moment  as  if  breath- 
ing a  prayer,  while  the  tears  rolled  down  her 
face;  then  bending  suddenly,  caught  the  girl's 
hands,  kissed  them,  pressed  them  to  her  heart, 
and  rushed  out  of  the  room. 


224  PACTOLVS  PRIME. 

The  young  lady  gazed  after  her  with  a  puz- 
zled frown  on  her  brow,  shook  her  head,  and 
then  went  and  stood  by  the  window  looking  out 
upon  the  broad  avenue,  on  which  the  throng 
seemed  to  increase  as  the  short  winter  day  drew 
to  a  close.  The  door  suddenly  flew  open  and 
a  servant-girl  burst  into  the  room. 

"Miss  Eva!  Miss  Eva!  they  wants  you  at 
the  telephone — right  away !" 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked,  noting  the  girl's 
excitement. 

"I  don't  know,  Miss, — somethin'  'bout  Unc 
Prime.  Dat's  what  Mrs.  Macey  said.  She  was 
takin'  it,  yer  know,  an'  all  of  a  sudden  she  yells 
out,  'Prime!  Unc  Prime!'  jes  so;  an'  down 
she  drops  in  a  faint,  an'  so  I  runs  fer  you." 

The  young  lady  went  into  the  hall  where  the 
telephone  was  attached.  She  found  the  house- 
keeper half-unconscious  beside  the  instrument, 
her  apron  thrown  over  her  head,  moaning 
brokenly. 

"What  is  it,  Mrs.  Macey?"  she  asked  in 
alarm. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  I  don't  know!  Some- 
thing's wrong.  There's  .always  something 
wrong  where  I  am  !  O  Lord  !  O  Lord  !" 

Miss  Collins  took  the  instrument  from  her 
hand  and  placed  it  to  her  own  ear. 

"Hello!"  she  called. 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL.  225 

"Hello!"  came  the  reply. 

"Did  you  call  No.  —  M.  Street?" 

"Yes." 

"Who  are  you?" 

"Central  Police  Station.  Who  am  I  talking 
with?" 

"Miss  Collins." 

"Miss  Eva  Collins?" 

"Yes;  what  do  you  want?" 

"A  colored  man  has  just  been  brought  in 
badly  hurt." 

"What  is  his  name?" 

"He  is  unconscious,  but  has  an  envelope  in 
his  pocket  directed  to  Miss  Eva  Collins,  and 
addressed  to  your  number.  That's  why  we 
called  you.  He's  an  old,  bald-headed  man. 
What?" 

"Nothing — go  on!" 

"The  chief  thought  he  might  be  your  ser- 
vant, at  least  you  might  want  the  letter.  Do 
you  know  anything  about  it?" 

"Yes,  he  belongs  here." 

"All  right!  We'll  send  the  letter.  What? 
Wait  a  minute." 

She  could  only  hear  a  confused  murmur. 
Soon  the  same  voice  called  again. 

"He  has  just  been  identified  as  Prime — the 
boot-black  at  the  'Best  House.'  We  have 
sent  an  officer  there  to  inquire  about  him." 


226  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"Is  he  able  to  be  moved?" 

"The  doctor  says  he  should  be  taken  to  the 
hospital  without  delay." 

"Is  he  dangerously  injured?" 

"He  cannot  tell — it  is  serious." 

"Have  him  sent  here  at  once!" 

"But  the  doctor  says — " 

"Send  him  here!" 

"Unless  you  are  willing  to  undertake  a  great 
deal  of  trouble — " 

"Send  him  here!" 

"All  right,  ma'am  ;  you  understand  he  would 
receive  good  attention  at  the  hospital,  and  you 
could — " 

"Send  him  here!" 

"All  right.  They  are  taking  him  to  the 
ambulance  now.  He  is  reviving!  Good-by!" 

"I  say,  Captain,"  she  heard  before  the  con- 
nection was  severed,  "did  you  ever  see  the  like 
of  that !  An  aristocratic  white  woman  insisting 
on  taking  care  of  a  banged-up  old  nigger!" 

She  rang  the  bell  and  called  the  Central 
Telephone  Exchange. 

"Hello!" 

"Is  that  the  Central  Exchange?" 

"Yes." 

"Give  me  Mr.  Willard  Phelps." 

"Home  or  office?" 

"Home." 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL.  227 

"All  right  !" 

She  waited  a  moment. 

"Hello!" 

"Is  that  Mr.  Phelps?" 

"Yes." 

She  recognized  the  voice. 

"Uncle  Pac  is  badly  hurt.  Will  you  order  a 
physician  here  at  once — one  you  have  full  con- 
fidence in?" 

"What  is  the  injury?" 

"I  do  not  know.  Ambulance  is  on  the  way 
here  from  the  police  station." 

"All  right !  Will  call  the  doctor  and  come 
myself  within  an  hour.  If  needed  before  that 
time  call  me!" 

"La  sakes!"  said  the  servant,  who  stood 
gnawing  the  corner  of  her  apron  and  gazing  at 
her  young  mistress  in  amazement.  "She  do 
beat  anything!" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Eva,"  sobbed  the 
housekeeper  in  deep  humiliation.  "I  know  I 
oughtn't  to  have  given  way  so,  but  I  can't  hear 
of  nobody  bein'  hurt  without  all  breakin' 
down, — never  since  he  was  killed  !  I  know  it's 
foolish  after  so  long  a  time  but  I  can't  help  it — 
indeed  I  can't !  And  then  to  think  I  was  wish- 
ing this  old  man  Prime  was  dead ;  so't  you 
wouldn't  have  no  bother  with  him !  I  did, 
Miss  Eva — I  did !  Oh,  what  makes  me  so 


228  PA  CTOL  us  PRIME. 

wicked — always  wicked  even  when  I  try  to  be 
good !" 

"There,  there,  Mrs.  Macey !"  said  the  girl, 
placing  her  hand  soothingly  on  the  housekeep- 
er's head.  "Don't  give  way  now!  I'm  sure 
you  meant  no  harm !  We  must  get  ready  to 
take  care  of  him  when  he  comes!" 

"Not you,  Miss  Eva!  Not  you!"  exclaimed 
the  woman,  springing  to  her  feet.  "You 
mustn't  never  do  that;  you  can't!  Let  me  do 
it !  Let  me  do  it  for  my  sin,  Miss  Eva ! 
There  ain't  no  better  nurse  in  Washington  than 
I  am !" 

The  woman  was  wild  with  self-reproachful 
anxiety. 

"There!  There!"  said  the  girl,  putting  her 
arm  about  the  woman's  neck  and  drawing  the 
gray  head  to  her  bosom,  while  she  patted  the 
throbbing  temples  and  wiped  the  tears  from 
her  flushed  face.  "You  shall  take  care  of  him 
— and  I  will  help  you  !" 


XIX. 

A   PROMISE  FULFILLED. 

ambulance  and  the  surgeon  arrived  al- 
1  most  at  the  same  instant.  Miss  Collins 
met  the  men  with  the  stretcher  as  they  came 
up  the  steps. 

"This  way,"  she  said,  as  she  went  before 
them  up  the  broad  staiis.  The  physician 
waited  in  the  hall  to  divest  himself  of  his  outer 
garments.  The  chamber  to  which  she  led  the 
bearers  was  a  spacious  one.  They  looked 
around  at  the  rich  furniture  and  down  at  the 
dark  face  upon  the  stretcher,  questioningly. 

"This  is  a  very  luxurious  sick-room,"  re- 
marked the  hospital  attendant,  cautiously,  "very 
luxurious  for  a — a  servant." 

"It  is  none  too  good,"  replied  the  lady,  with 
an  angry  flash  of  the  eye.  "Lay  him  here," 
pointing  to  the  open  bed.  The  housekeeper 
stood  clinging  to  the  footboard  gazing  at  the 
bare  black  head  that  sank  with  a  groan  into  the 
white  pillows.  Eva  picked  up  the  knitted  cap 
from  the  stretcher  and  restored  it  to  its  place. 
It  was  not  the  first  time  she  had  done  this 
229 


230  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

• 

service.  In  spite  of  her  self-control  the  tears 
fell  upon  the  dark,  upturned  face.  She  took 
her  handkerchief  and  wiped  them  away.  The 
bearers  folded  up  the  stretcher  and  started  to 
leave— half  doubtfully.  The  physician  whis- 
pered to  the  hospital  attendant  who  was  in 
charge.  He  shook  his  head  and  nodded  toward 
the  young  lady.  Addressing  her,  the  doctor 
said,  hesitantly: 

"I  was  sent  by  the  Hon.  Willard  Phelps ; 
have  I  missed  the  number?" 

"This  is  your  patient." 

"Do  you  know  me — Dr.  Holbrook?" 

"I  do  not ;  I  am  almost  a  stranger  in  the  city, 
and  asked  Mr.  Phelps  to  send  me — the  best." 

"Ah — quite  so." 

He  had  followed  the  stretcher  up  the  steps. 
Understanding  he  was  to  attend  upon  a 
wounded  man,  he  naturally  concluded  that  it 
was  his  patient  who  was  being  taken  from  the 
ambulance,  and  had  been  staggered  when  he 
saw  the  color  of  his  face.  Now,  satisfied  that 
there  had  been  no  mistake,  he  proceeded  to 
diagnose  the  case.  The  bearers  and  the  atten- 
dant went  slowly  down  the  stairs,  the  servant 
following  them.  The  housekeeper  took  the 
young  lady's  arm  and  led  her  away. 

"The  injury  is  nervous  rather  than  physical," 
was  the  verdict  of  the  physician  after  he  had 


A  PROMISE  FULFILLED.  231 

concluded  his  examination.  "There  seems  to 
have  been  a  previous  injury  of  the  spine  which 
has  been  affected  by  concussion." 

He  made  this  report  to  the  young  lady  in 
the  parlor  a  half-hour  afterwards.  The  house- 
keeper had  been  placed  in  charge  of  the  sick- 
room. 

"He  will  recover?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

"It  is  hard  to  say.  He  is  still  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  opiate,  hypodermically  adminis- 
tered by  the  hospital  attendant  who  accompa- 
nied the  ambulance.  He  was  suffering  greatly, 
it  seems, — talking  incoherently,  they  said. 
One  can  hardly  tell  what  was  his  condition  or 
the  extent  of  the  injury.  It  is  getting  to  be  an 
almost  universal  practice  with  these  people  to 
use  an  injector.  It  is  a  fascinating  instrument 
and  saves  them  trouble.  When  the  effect  wears 
off  we  shall  be  able  to  judge  better  as  to  his  con- 
dition. It  seems  probable  that  paraplegia  may 
supervene — partial  paralysis,  you  understand." 

"You  will  remain?" 

"I  will  look  in  about  ten;  he  is  in  good 
hands.  Your  housekeeper  is  a  very  efficient 
nurse.  Nothing  more  can  be  done  now." 

The  physician  sat,  with  his  gloves  in  one 
hand  and  his  hat  in  the  other,  during  this  con- 
versation. He  was  a  man  of  notable  appear- 
ance— of  strong,  sharp  features,  his  abundant 


232  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

gray  hair  contrasting  oddly  with  his  jet  beard 
and  alert  black  eyes. 

''You  feel  a  great  deal  of  interest  in  this 
case?"  he  inquired  after  a  moment's  silence. 

"Very  great,  indeed." 

"An  old  servant,  I  suppose?" 

"He  has  been  with  us  ever  since  I  can  re- 
member." 

"Indeed?  Do  you  know  anything  of  his 
history — physically,  I  mean?" 

"I  do  not  remember  that  he  has  ever  been 
ill." 

"And  his  appearance?" 

"Has  always  been  the  same." 

"Your  memory  of  him  extends — how  far 
back?" 

"Fifteen  years  or  more." 

"And  you  have  noted  no  change?" 

"None  whatever." 

"He  has  evidently  been  wounded  at  some 
time." 

"I  think,  he  was  a  soldier." 

"Does  he  receive  a  pension?" 

"I  do  not  know  about  that,  but  I  am  sure  he 
was  a  soldier." 

"Ah — I  will  take  another  look  at  him." 

The  physician  went  slowly  up  the  stairs  with 
a  puzzled  look  upon  his  face.  The  police  re- 
port told  him  nothing  of  the  case.  No  one  had 


A  PROMISE  FULFILLED.  233 

seen  the  man  fall.  He  had  been  found  lying 
prone  upon  the  Avenue.  There  were  no  contu- 
sions, except  a  slight  one  on  the  head  and  a  cut 
on  the  right  hand.  The  physician  concluded 
that  he  had  been  knocked  down  by  a  horse,  and 
that  the  driver  had  managed  to  avoid  touching 
him  with  the  wheels.  The  shock  had  been 
severe,  and  the  signs  of  former  injuries  had  led 
him  to  expect  the  results  he  had  indicated. 

The  housekeeper  was  a  comely  woman  for 
her  age,  with  a  feeble,  apprehensive  look,  as  if 
trouble  had  destroyed  what  might  have  been 
beauty  in  her  young  days.  She  sat  holding 
the  sick  man's  hand,  and  started  like  a  guilty 
creature  when  she  heard  the  physician's  step, 
letting  the  hand  fall  by  the  bedside.  There 
was  only  a  small  night-lamp  in  the  room,  and 
he  seemed  not  to  notice  her  confusion. 

"Will  you  turn  up  the  lights,  Mrs.  Macey?" 
he  said,  laying  his  hat  and  gloves  .on  the  table 
and  going  to  the  bedside. 

She  turned  on  the  electric  light.  The  doc- 
tor folded  back  the  clothing  of  the  bed  and 
made  a  hasty  examination  of  the  patient's  hip 
and  right  leg. 

"Exactly:  gun-shot  wounds — from  the  rear, 
too?  She  is  probably  right,"  he  said,  speaking 
to  himself.  • 

"Have  those  old  hurts  anything  to  do  with 


234  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

his  condition  now?"  the  housekeeper  asked  in  a 
scared  voice.  She  was  standing  by  the  table 
in  the  middle  of  the  room. 

"Perhaps,"  he  returned,  glancing  sharply  at 
her.  "Do  you  know  anything  about  them?" 

"Oh,  no — that  is — I've  heard — I've  only  been 
here  a  short  time — a  few  weeks." 

The  woman  flushed  and  stammered  under 
the  doctor's  penetrating  gaze. 

"If  I  knew  what  they  were  and  when  re- 
ceived, it  might  help  me,"  he  said  tentatively. 

The  woman  shook  her  head.  The  doctor 
pushed  back  the  clothing  on  the  patient's  chest 
displaying  a  small  black  crucifix  and  a  little 
flat  parcel  suspended  from  the  neck.  He  stood 
so  that  his  own  form  intervened  between  the 
nurse  and  the  patient. 

"Strange!"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "how 
many  of  the  negroes  are  turning  Catholics. 
Will  you  bring  me  a  little  vinegar?"  he  added 
aloud. 

The  woman  left  the  room  to  procure  it.  As 
soon  as  she  was  gone  the  doctor  cut  the  string 
by  which  the  parcel  was  suspended,  and  open- 
ing it  quickly  made  a  hasty  examination  of  its 
contents. 

When  he  had  done,  a  puzzled  look  came  over 
his  face.  He  stepped  back  a  little'way  and  care- 
fully scrutinized  the  face  of  his  patient,  holding 


A  PROMISE  FULFILLED.  235 

his  hand  above  his  eyes  to  screen  them  from 
the  light  as  he  did  so.  Then  he  took  a  small 
magnifying  glass  from  his  pocket  and  passed 
it  quickly  over  the  patient's  hand  and  nails; 
pulled  down  the  lids  and  examined  the  strange, 
dark  eyes ;  scrutinized  the  scalp  and  regarded 
attentively  the  side  of  the  face.  The  woman 
returned  with  a  small  pitcher  of  vinegar,  a  pretty, 
glass-stoppered  little  jug  which  she  carried  as 
if  impressed  by  its  diminutiveness.  The  physi- 
cian took  it  carelessly,  and,  pouring  a  few  drops 
in  his  hand,  rubbed  them  on  the  patient's  fore- 
head and  then  examined  it  again  with  the  glass. 

"You  think  he  will  live?"  she  asked. 

"There  is  no  present  danger.  You  remem- 
ber my  directions?" 

"Oh,  yes,  sir." 

The  woman  instinctively  dropped  a  little 
curtsey,  and  turned  to  arrange  the  bedclothes. 
The  doctor  saw  it  and  smiled. 

"There  is  nothing  more.     Good-night." 

He  went  away  shaking  his  head. 


XX. 

THE   FIAT   OF   SCIENCE. 


u 


WELL,  I  vow,"  the  doctor  said  to  himself 
as  he  went  down  the  steps,  "  that  little 
housekeeper  is  an  oddity.  I  haven't  seen  a 
white  woman  drop  a  curtsey  before  in  forty 
years.  But  the  young  lady  is  a  thoroughbred. 
There  are  not  many  who  would  give  such  atten- 
tion to  an  old  servant — such  a  vulture-headed 
old  creature  as  that,  too.  He  can't  have  been 
a  very  valuable  servant,  either,  for  he  has  been  a 
boot-black  for  years,  that  I  know.  I  wonder — 
can  it  be  possible  he  has  been  supporting 
this  establishment  ?  I  believe  that's  the  key 
to  the  mystery.  Well,  well,  queer  things  do 
happen — life  is  made  up  of  them  in  fact. 
Talk  about  fiction  !  Faugh !  it's  stale  to  a 
grown  man  who  has  had  his  eyes  and  ears 
open  !  " 

He  glanced  keenly  about  him  as  he  went 
down  the  stairs  and  let  himself  out. 

"  Ah  !  here  you  are,"  he  exclaimed  as  he 
came  face  to  face  with  Mr.  Phelps,  on  reach- 
ing the  pavement.  "Just  the  man  I  wanted 
236 


THE  FIA  T  OF  SCIENCE.  237 

to  see.  What  can  you  tell  me  about  this  old 
fellow  in  here?" 

"Who?   Prime?" 

"  Of  course." 

"How  is  he?" 

"  Oh,  well  enough, — that  is,  for  the  present. 
What  his  condition  will  be  when  he  recovers 
consciousness,  it  is  hard  to  tell." 

"  Is  he  badly  hurt?" 

"  I  don't  know —  well,  yes — that  is,  he  may 
be.  If  I  knew  something  about  what  he  has 
been,  I  could  guess  better  what  his  chances 
will  be.  Can  you  help  me  ?  " 

"  Wait  until  I  see  Miss  Eva,  and  I  will  ride 
back  with  you." 

"All  right — make  haste  !  " 

It  was  hardly  a  moment  before  the  lawyer 
returned  and  seated  himself  by  the  physician's 
side. 

"Well,  what  do  you  know?  In  the  first 
place,  who  is  that  girl  ?  " 

"  Miss  Collins?" 

"  Certainly.  I  mean  what  family  does  she 
belong  to?  What  stock  is  she?  I  don't  sup- 
pose I  know  everybody  in  the  city — certainly 
not  in  the  country — but  I  know  the  old  stocks 
around  here,  and  I  do  not  recognize  the  type. 
Yet  she  does  not  seem  like  a  new  importation." 

"  She  is — and  she  is  not." 


238  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  From  the  South—I'll  wager  on  that." 

"And  lose — at  least  you  would  be  only  half 
right.  Her  father  was  a  Western  man,  as  I 
understand,  who  settled  in  South  Carolina  at 
the  close  of  the  war.  Somehow,  you  and  I  do 
not  need  to  inquire  how — he  made  himself 
obnoxious  to  the  people  of  the  region  where  he 
lived,  and  'disappeared,'  as  they  say;  in  plain 
English  was  killed.  The  widow  was  left  with 
her  children  on  the  plantation  the  husband 
had  bought  and  improved.  After  a  time,  the 
youngest,  a  daughter,  disappeared  also.  All 
search  for  her  proved  unavailing,  not  a  trace 
could  be  found.  At  the  first  opportunity  the 
terrified  mother  sold  the  plantation  and  fled 
herself,  with  the  other  child." 

"  And  this  boot- black— Prime  ?  " 

"  He  was  with  the  girl's  father  in  the  service, 
and  remained  with  him  afterward  on  the  plan- 
tation ;  that  is  his  story.  He  seems  to  have 
been  greatly  attached  to  him,  but  somehow 
distrustful  of  the  wife.  After  the  father's 
death  he  stole  the  little  girl,  who  was  the 
father's  favorite,  brought  her  here,  and  has 
not  only  cared  for  her  but  has  acquired  con- 
siderable property,  taking  the  title  always  in 
the  father's  name,  so  that  she  might  think  she 
took  rather  by  inheritance  than  as  a  gratuity 
from  him." 


THE  FIA  T  OF  SCIENCE.  239 

"  He  seems  to  have  been  very  considerate." 

"  No  parent  could  have  been  more  so.  He 
even  used  my  checks  to  pay  her  school  bills 
that  she  might  not  think  herself  under  obliga- 
tion to  him." 

"  And  you  advised  this?" 

"  I  did  not  know  it  until  to-day.  He  has 
been  accustomed  for  a  dozen  years  to  exchange 
checks  with  me  in  order  to  conceal  his  iden- 
tity— to  cover  up  his  tracks,  as  one  may  say. 
i  think  he  was  distrustful  of  everybody  else — 
never  wanted  any  one  to  know  that  he  had 
money.  I  doubt  if  in  all  that  time  he  has  ever 
signed  a  check  I  did  not  fill  out,  and  usually 
they  have  been  made  payable  to  me,  I  giving 
my  checks  for  them  in  such  amounts  as  he 
desired.  This  is  the  way  all  his  purchases 
have  been  made,  and  I  knew  nothing  whatever 
of  his  support  of  this  young  lady,  or  even  of 
her  existence,  until  within  a  few  months." 

"This  is  his  account  of  himself?*" 

"  Of  course." 

"And  the  young  lady — how  much  does  she 
know  of  this  ?  " 

"Just  what  I  have  told  you." 

"  No  more  ?" 

"  Well,  she  has  her  own  memory." 

"  How  old  was  she  when  he  stole  her?  " 

"  Very  young — I  judge  about  three  years." 


240  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

11  Has  she  any  memory  of  her  mother  ?  " 

"  Only  a  very  indistinct  one." 

"  H'm,"  muttered  the  doctor  knitting  his 
brows  as  he  glanced  up  at  an  electric  light  that 
flashed  and  spluttered  as  they  came  within  its 
zone  of  pallid  radiance,  "a  queer  case — a  very 
queer  case !  " 

"  The  man's  success  has  been  remarkable, 
otherwise  I  do  not  know  as  there  is  anything 
very  strange  in  it,"  said  the  lawyer,  thought- 
fully pursing  up  his  lips  as  if  rendering  an 
opinion  on  a  mooted  point. 

"Humph!  You  think  so?  Well,  here  we 
are  at  my  house.  Come  in  and  let  us  talk  it 
over  a  little." 

44  I  don't  know  as  I  ought — "  hesitantly. 

"  Oh,  come  along  !  "  said  the  doctor,  standing 
on  the  sidewalk  and  speaking  with  that  impe- 
riousness  which  a  man  uses  only  towards  fa- 
miliar friends.  "  You  have  told  me  what  you 
know  and  I  want  to  tell  you  what  I  have  found 
out — about  this  man  Prime,  I  mean." 

The  lawyer  yielded  ;  they  went  up  the  steps 
together;  the  doctor  let  himself  in  with  his 
latch-key  and  led  the  way  at  once  to  his  con- 
sulting-room. 

44  Let  me  look  at  my  slate,"  he  said  briskly. 
44  The  Scripture  maybe  a  sufficient  guide  for 
other  people's  footsteps,  but  the  doctor  and 


THE  FIA  T  OF  SCIENCE.  241 

the  politician  can  never  dispense  with  the 
slate.  This  is  first-rate,"  he  continued,  touch- 
ing an  electric  bell.  "  I  rarely  find  myself 
without  imperative  calls  at  this  time  of  day, 
but  Christmas  crowds  even  disease  into  the 
background.  James,"  he  added,  as  a  servant 
appeared,  "  I  shall  be  engaged  for  an  hour. 
Come  in  here,  Mr.  Phelps." 

He  led  the  way  into  his  private  room,  library 
rather  than  office,  a  nook  reserved  for  friends 
rather  than  patients,  though  the  atmosphere  of 
the  profession  was  not  wanting  in  it.  When 
they  had  enjoyed  for  a  few  moments  the 
warmth  of  the  glowing  grate,  the  doctor 
said : 

"This  is  not  the  first  time  our  tracks  have 
crossed  in  searching  out  the  life-lines  of  other 
people,  Mr.  Phelps.  If  I  remember  right  we 
have  now  and  then  treated  one  another  to  a  sur- 
prise, each  in  his  own  way.  The  fact  is  that 
law  and  medicine  lie  a  good  deal  closer  to- 
gether than  most  people  suppose,  but  I  doubt 
if  one  ever  imagined  any  bit  of  detective  an- 
alysis such  as  I  am  going  to  show  you  now. 
You  have  told  me  what  you  know  about 
Prime,  and  would  probably  be  surprised  if  I 
should  tell  you  that  I  have  found  out  a  good 
deal  more." 

"  I  don't  know, "said  the  lawyer  meditatively, 


242  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  the  world  is  not  so  large  as  it  once  was,  and 
I  know  of  no  man  who  is  likely  to  learn  more 
of  another's  history  than  his  physician." 

"  But  I  am  not  Prime's  physician — never 
heard  his  name,  except  as  a  boot-black  at 
the  Best  House,  until  to-night.  You  have 
been  his  attorney  for  years,  but  I  am  not  sure 
I  have  not  learned  more  about  him  in  one 
visit  than  you  have  found  out  in  all  the  time 
you  have  known  him." 

There  was  evident  satisfaction  in  the  doc- 
tor's tone,  and  his  eyes  twinkled  with  enjoy- 
ment as  he  spoke. 

"  Possibly,"  answered  the  lawyer  with  a  quiet 
shrug.  "  Suppose  you  open  your  pack,  how- 
ever, and  show  your  goods  before  you  extol 
their  quality." 

"All  right,  I  will,"  responded  the  other  with 
a  laugh.  "  In  the  first  place,  the  man's  name 
is  not  Pactolus  Prime  at  all  !" 

"  Very  likely,"  said  the  lawyer  composedly, — 
"  There  are  several  millions  of  Negroes  in  this 
country  whose  title  to  the  names  they  bear 
would  be  very  hard  to  sustain.  You  must  re- 
member, doctor,  that  the  name  is  altogether  an 
assumed  and  not  an  inherited  attribute  to  the 
Negro,  in  this  country  at  least." 

"  But  he  is  not  a  Negro ! "  exclaimed  the 
doctor  with  emphasis. 


THE  F1A  T  OF  SCIENCE.  243 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  the  lawyer  with  a  smile. 
"That  is  a  different  matter.  I  should  fancy 
you  would  much  more  easily  provoke  an 
argument  on  that  proposition  than  on  the 
other,  since  you  will  hardly  find  any  one  who 
would  be  likely  to  agree  with  you." 

"  But  I  can  prove  it,"  asserted  the  physician 
'stoutly. 

"By  expert  testimony,  I  suppose?"  an- 
swered the  lawyer  with  a  touch  of  sarcasm. 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  the  other,  "  I  know  what 
you  would  say,  '  The  evidence  of  things  hoped 
for  and  the  testimony  of  things  not  seen!' 
But  the  scientific  expert  cannot  be  sneered 
out  of  court,  much  less  out  of  the  forum  of 
reason.  But  in  this  case,  as  it  happens,  my 
testimony  is  historical  rather  than  scientifi- 
cally inferential." 

"  I  thought  you  said  you  did  not  know 
Prime  until  to-day." 

"  Neither  did  I,  except  casually.  The  man 
Pactolus  Prime,  as  he  calls  himself,  I  never 
knew  except  as  I  may  have  heard  him  men- 
tioned as  the  best  boot-black  in  the  city ;  but 
the  body  the  man  inhabits  I  have  known  for 
a  dozen  years  or  more." 

"Ah,  you  have  examined  him  before?" 

"  Never  ;  but  that  body  is  part  of  the  com- 
mon property  of  our  profession." 


244  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

"Never  was  such  another,  I  suppose?  " 

"  Never." 

"Indeed!"  There  was  unmistakable  incre- 
dulity in  the  lawyer's  tone. 

"  That  shows  how  little  a  lawyer,  even  a 
great  lawyer,  knows,"  said  the  doctor,  testily. 
"  If  a  bank  cashier  had  shown  you  a  counter- 
feit bill  and  told  you  that  it  was  the  work  of  a 
certain  engraver,  you  would  not  have  thought 
it  at  all  surprising,  nor  have  questioned  the 
accuracy  of  his  deduction,  though  he  had 
never  seen  the  forger,  nor  a  specimen  of  his 
workmanship ;  but  when  I  tell  you  that  I  rec- 
ognize a  certain  human  body  which  I  never  saw 
saw  before,  because  it  is  one  distinctly  known 
to  the  whole  body  of  my  profession,  you  at 
once  grow  incredulous?  " 

"  You  see,  doctor,  my  profession  has  learned 
by  sad  experience  not  to  put  entire  reliance 
upon  flesh-marks  and — experts  !  "  answered  the 
other  with  a  smile. 

"  All  right,"  said  the  physician,  shaking  his 
finger  threateningly  at  his  companion,  "I 
shall  punish  you  for  your  incredulity.  Let  me 
go  on.  The  man's  real  name  is  Smith  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?  "  asked  the  lawyer 
with  a  frown. 

"Aha!"  exclaimed  the  physician  gleefully, 
"I  touched  the  raw  then,  didn't  I  ?  Hold 


THE  FIA  T  OF  SCIENCE.  245 

on  ;  I'm  not  through  yet.  The  young  lady  up 
there,  Miss  Collins,  is  his  daughter!  " 

The  lawyer  turned  away  with  an  expression 
of  impatience. 

"  You  don't  believe  it  ?  "  asked  the  physician. 

"  It  is  a  very  pretty  bit  of  imagination,  doc- 
tor. Several  knights  of  the  lancet  have 
recently  gone  into  fiction  ;  why  don't  you  try 
it?  I  think  you  would  succeed." 

"  We  cannot  match  the  law  in  the  number 
of  our  novelists,  nor  can  we  boast  of  making 
up  in  quality  what  we  lack  in  quantity.  Old 
Sir  Walter  put  you  too  far  ahead  to  be 
distanced  by  any  other  profession.  But  I 
thank  you  for  the  compliment,  all  the  same  ; 
it  is  a  tribute  to  my  skill  in  the  use  of 
facts,"  said  the  doctor  in  the  same  banter- 
ing tone. 

"  Facts !  You  surely  would  not  advertise 
such  a  series  of  improbabilities  as  a  story 
'founded  on  fact,'  even  remotely?" 

"That's  like  a  lawyer's  self-complacency! 
What  are  facts  ?  Who  deals  with  facts  ?  the 
man  whose  premises  are  found  in  flesh  and 
blood  or  the  one  who  guesses  at  results  from 
motive  and  circumstances?" 

The  lawyer  made  no  reply. 

"  Now  for  the  proof,"  resumed  the  physi- 
cian after  a  moment's  pause.  "  You  shall  fol- 


246  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

low  me,  step  by  step,  and  judge  the  correct- 
ness of  my  conclusions.  Is  that  fair?" 

His  listener  nodded  assent,  and  he  pro- 
ceeded : 

"  Well  then,  here  is  the  first  link  in  my 
chain  of  evidence."  He  snatched  an  Index 
Rerum  from  a  side  case  of  his  desk  and 
turned  its  pages  over  rapidly  until  he  found 
the  term,  "  Depilation."  Handing  the  book 
to  the  lawyer,  he  pointed  to  this  word  and 
said  :  "  You  will  observe  that  I  haven't  been 
tampering  with  the  witness.  That  minute 
was  made  a  dozen  years  ago  and  I  have  hardly 
seen  it  since.  Now,  let  me  get  the  work  re- 
ferred to,  and  we  shall  see  what  you  think  of 
my  opening ;  that  is  what  you  lawyers  call  it,  I 
believe." 

He  went  to  a  book-case  and  ran  his  fingers 
swiftly  along  a  set  of  works  which  showed 
evidences  of  frequent  use.  Taking  one  out, 
he  opened  it  at  a  particular  place,  cast  his  eyes 
down  the  page,  and  handed  it  to  the  lawyer. 

"  Read  that,"  he  said. 

The  other  took  the  book,  put  on  his  pince- 
nez  glasses,  glancing  first  at  the  title  with  the 
habitual  caution  of  his  profession,  as  if  to  de- 
termine its  value  as  an  authority,  and  then  care- 
fully but  rapidly  perused  an  article  entitled: 
"A  Curious  Case  of  Argyria  and  Depilation." 


THE  FIA  T  OF  SCIENCE.  247 

In  the  mean  time,  the  physician  had  turned 
to  his  letter-file,  and  after  some  search  extract- 
ed from  it  a  paper,  with  which  he  returned 
to  his  seat  and  waited  until  the  lawyer  fin- 
ished reading. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Very  curious  indeed,"  answered  the  law- 
yer, "and  very  interesting;  but  it  strikes  me 
there  is  a  pretty  wide  gap  between  your  pre- 
mise and  conclusion.  You  have  evidently 
jumped  to  the  conviction  that  Dr.  Darling's 
patient  and  your  own  are  identical.  There 
seems  to  me  no  sufficient  means  of  identifica- 
tion". I  suppose  you  do  not  claim  that  he  is 
the  only  man  in  the  country  affected  with 
argyria?  " 

"Not  the  only  one,  of  course;  but  the 
chances  are  about  a  thousand  millions  to  one 
that  there  were  ever  two  people  who  would  fill 
the  description  there  given." 

"  I  don't  understand  why,"  said  the  lawyer, 
biting  his  lip  and  contracting  his  brows,  "  if 
such  a  result  is  produced  by  specific  means  in 
one  case,  there  should  not  be  a  thousand 
other  cases  just  like  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  cannot  ;  neither  can  I ;  but 
we  of  the  medical  profession  know  as  a  fact 
that  one  of  the  most  difficult  things  in  the 
world  is  to  duplicate  either  physical  conditions 


248  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

or  physical  results.  Now,  this  thing  we  call 
argyria  is  one  of  the  rarest  forms  of  medical 
resultants.  There  are  probably  hardly  a  score 
of  cases  in  the  world  to-day — perhaps  not  as 
many.  And  each  one  of  these  no  doubt  differs 
from  every  other  case  in  intensity  and  shade, 
just  as  one  old  master's  coloring  differs  from 
another's.  The  remedy  from  whose  action  ar- 
gyria results  is  not  a  rare  one, — at  least  it  was 
not  a  few  years  ago  ;  yet  this  particular  result 
is  very  unusual.  It  is  a  mysterious  effect  of 
remedy  or  disease,  one  or  both,  upon  the 
pigmentum  nigriim,  which  occurs  only  under 
peculiar  conditions  and  in  rare  cases.  What 
these  conditions  are  no  one  knows.  But  you 
will  observe  that  this  was  not  only  a  remark- 
able, uniform  and  striking  case  of  argyria,  giv- 
ing the  man,  as  Dr.  Darling  says,  '  the  hue, 
upon  close  inspection,  of  newly  fractured  cast- 
iron,  which,' he  adds,  'was  somewhat  dulled 
by  exposure,  becoming  considerably  darker 
upon  the  exposed  surfaces,  as  the  hands  and 
face';  but  you  will  observe  that  he  goes  further 
and  alludes  to  the  discoloration  of  the  whites 
of  the  eyes.  Now  this  is  perhaps  even  rarer 
than  argyria  itself.  I  have  myself  seen  it  but 
once,  and  a  distinguished  oculist  has  recently 
gone  so  far  as  to  declare  it  to  be  due,  in  the 
rare  cases  in  which  it  does  exist,  not  to  excess- 


THE  FIAT  OF  SCIENCE.  249 

ive  pigmentation,  but  to  deterioration  of  the 
sclerotic  membrane  itself.  The  important 
fact  to  us  is,  that  it  existed  in  Dr.  Darling's 
case.  Have  you  ever  seen  your  client's  eyes — 
without  his  glasses,  I  mean?" 

"  Once." 

"You  know,  then,  what  I  mean?" 

The  lawyer  nodded. 

"  Now,  how  many  chances  are  there  that 
these  two  rare  phenomena  would  concur  in  an- 
other human  being?" 

"  Not  a  great  many,  it  is  true,"  said  the  law- 
yer "  but  then — 

"  Hold  on  !  You  might  as  well  save  your 
self  the  trouble  of  stating  that  argument. 
You  won't  dare  make  it  when  I  am  through !  " 

"You  will  observe,"  he  continued,  "that 
Dr.  Darling  says  that  complete  depilation  en- 
sued very  rapidly  upon  the  patient's  recovery. 
It  was  this  which  especially  attracted  my 
attention  to  the  case.  I  have  always  had  a 
strange  fancy  for  this  subject.  I  am  satisfied 
that  some  time  science  will  discover  not  only 
how  the  hair  grows,  but  why  it  ceases  to  grow, 
and  be  able  to  treat  depilation  as  a  disease 
with  a  reasonable  certainty  of  success.  I 
hoped  once  that  such  advance  might  come  in 
my  day,  and — well,  in  fact,  I  hoped  I  might 
be  the  discoverer.  It  is  a  dream  that  comes, 


250  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

I  suppose,  to  every  lover  of  his  profession, 
that  he  may  do  something  that  shall  give  his 
name  a  sort  of  an  immortality  in  connection 
with  its  history,  such  an  immortality  as  Har- 
vey has  won  in  ours  and  Blackstone  in  yours." 

"They  are  hardly  parallel  cases;  but  go  on, 
I  see  your  meaning,"  said  the  lawyer. 

"  Well,  I  had  not  quite  gotten  over  this 
fancy  when  that  case  fell  under  my  eye,  and 
I  wrote  to  Dr.  Darling  about  it.  That  was 
years  ago,  but  of  course  I  kept  the  letter 
because  it  had  a  bearing  on  my  hobby.  In 
this  letter  he  reaffirms  that  the  depilation  was 
complete,  hair,  beard,  eyebrows,  even  the  eye- 
lashes. I  examined  Prime  to-night  with  a 
glass — not  a  very  strong  one,  it  is  true  " — he 
added,  taking  the  case  from  his  pocket  and 
handing  it  to  his  listener — "  but  the  light  was 
good,  and  by  passing  it  over  the  back  of  your 
hand  you  will  be  able  to  guess  whether  I 
could  be  mistaken,  when  I  say  there  is  not  a 
shadow  of  a  hair  on  him." 

The  lawyer  examined  his  own  hand  through 
the  magnifier  and  nodded  assent  to  the  other's 
words. 

"  You  may  have  seen  one — perhaps  two  or 
three — cases  of  absolute  denudation  ;  but  you 
know  yourself  how  rare  they  are.  As  if  to 
cut  off  all  possibility  of  doubt,  however,  not 


THE  FIAT  OF  SCIENCE.  251 

only  did  these  three  among  the  rarest  of 
physical  conditions — argyria, sclerotic  discolora- 
tion and  depilation — obtain  in  Dr.  Darling's 
case,  but  the  man,  when  he  was  first  called  to 
see  him,  was  suffering  from  two  gunshot 
wounds,  one  about  the  fourth  lumbar  vertebra, 
from  which  he  removed  the  ball,  that  no  doubt 
produced  the  nervous  symptoms — the  involun- 
tary muscular  contractions  he  speaks  of — 
which  caused  him  to  give  the  nitrate  of  silver 
in  such  stiff,  old-fashioned  doses  as  to  produce 
such  a  beautiful  case  of  argyria.  This  may 
have  been  helped  on — probably  was — by  the 
sturdy  doses  of  "blue  mass"  which  the  coun- 
try practitioner,  accustomed  to  heroic  rem- 
edies and  tough  subjects,  used  to  reduce  the 
febrile  excitement  resulting  from  the  patient's 
wounds.  Mercury  often  has  an  effect  similar 
in  character,  but  less  in  degree,  to  that  pro- 
duced by  silver-poisoning.  The  other  wound 
was  a  fracture  of  the  inner  surface  of  the  head 
of  the  tibia,  to  which  the  doctor  says  he  paid 
little  attention,  as  he  expected  his  patient  to 
die  of  the  one  in  the  region  of  the  spine — as 
indeed  he  had  good  reason  to  anticipate.  The 
result  was  that  the  right  knee  and  hip  were  both 
affected  so  that  the  patient,  though  he  recov- 
ered, dragged  this  foot  behind  the  other  in  walk- 
ing. There  it  is  now.  Never  since  the  vulture- 


252  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

headed  Thoth  disappeared  from  human  thought 
was  a  man  so  unmistakably  marked.  I  would 
have  no  more  hesitation  in  swearing  that  this 
man  'Prime 'is  Dr.  Darling's  patient  than  I 
would  in  testifying  to  your  presence  opposite 
me  now." 

"I  should  think  you  would  be  safe  in  doing 
so,  Doctor,"  said  the  lawyer  thoughtfully ;  "but 
I  do  not  see  how  you  arrive  at  the  conclusion 
that  either  of  them  is  named  Smith."  There 
was  a  twinkle  in  the  lawyer's  eye  as  he  thus 
laid  his  finger  on  the  weak  point  of  his  friend's 
reasoning. 

"  Well,"  answered  the  doctor  with  a  laugh, 
"  that  is  nothing  like  so  clearly  ascertained  as 
the  other ;  though  the  testimony  in  reference 
to  it  happens  to  be  direct  rather  than  circum- 
stantial. Dr.  Darling  says  in  this  letter  that 
his  patient's  name  was  Smith — P.  P.  Smith. 
He  did  not  give  it  in  his  report,  he  says, 
because  it  might  have  endangered  the  man's 
life.  He  takes  occasion  to  say,  too,  that  the 
charge  against  him,  of  falsely  pretending  to 
be  a  white  man  was  true,  stating  this  on  the 
authority  of  a  former  master,  who  afterward 
took  great  interest  in  the  settlement  of  his 
affairs — or  his  wife's  affairs,  rather." 

"  Humph ! "  was  the  lawyer's  expressive 
ejaculation. 


THE  FIA  T  OF  SCIENCE.  253 

"So?"  exclaimed  the  doctor  lifting  his  eye- 
brows. "I  hadn't  thought  of  that.  Well  all 
this'is  strengthened  and  confirmed  by  a  curious 
thing  that  came  in  my  way  to-night.  Do  you 
see  that?  " 

He  laid  a  small  parcel  on  the  table  as  he 
spoke  It  was  only  a  rubber  tobacco-pouch 
with  one  side  pushed  into  the  other  and  a 
string  run  through  the  loop  thus  made. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  lawyer,  cautiously 
pinching  it  and  turning  it  over  as  he  spoke. 

"  That  is  what  I  asked  myself  an  hour  ago, 
and  I  am  half-ashamed  to  tell  you  what  course 
I  took  to  satisfy  my  curiosity.  A  physician 
does  not  often  meddle  with  what  does  not 
concern  him,  and  I  would  never  have  thought 
of  doing  what  I  did,  if  I  had  not  supposed  my 
patient  to  be  a  colored  man." 

"  I  don't  see  how  that  could  affect  the  pro- 
priety of  your  action."  said  the  lawyer  coolly. 

"Well,  I  found  that  parcel  carefully  strung 
•  around  your  client's  neck.  You  know  how 
addicted  the  colored  people  are  to  carrying 
charms  and  philters,  and  I  supposed,  of  course, 
that  I  had  gotten  hold  of  something  of  that 
sort.  So  I  tucked  it  into  my  pocket,  and 
when  I  had  an  opportunity,  stole  a  look  at  it. 
I  meant  to  have  put  it  back  where  I  found  it, 
but  the  housekeeper,  who  by  the  way  is  per- 


254  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

fectly  jellied  with  apprehension  on  this  man's 
account,  wouldn't  give  me  a  chance,  and  I  am 
glad  now,  that  I  didn't.  What  do  you  suppose 
it  contains  ?  Nothing  but  papers  which  do  not 
prove  any  of  my  conclusions,  yet  make  them 
all  indubitable." 

He  opened  the  pouch  and  took  out  some 
scraps  of  paper  carefully  pasted  together  in 
places  where  they  had  worn  through. 

"This,"  said  he,  opening  the  first,  "is  the 
discharge  of  Color-sergeant  P.  P.  Smith,  who 
was  enlisted  as  a  private  in  the  — th  Indiana 
Volunteer  Infantry,  near  Shell  Mound,  Tenn., 
on  the  i/th  day  of  June,  A.  D.  1862,  and  was 
discharged  'for  promotion,' on  the  6th  day  of 
December,  A.  D  .  1863,  at  Chattanooga.  Now 
what  do  you  think  of  that  ?  "  asked  the  physi- 
cian exultantly.  "  Dr.  Dowling's  patient  was 
named  P.  P.  Smith ;  the  girl's  father  was  a 
federal  soldier  ;  this  patient  has  carefully  hid- 
den about  his  person  the  discharge  from  the 
military  service  of  P.  P.  Smith;  ergo,  what 
shall  I  conclude  ?  " 

"You  have  certainly  made  out  a  very  strong 
prima  facie  case,"  said  the  lawyer  seriously. 

" Prima  facie,  man!  What  would  you  call 
conclusive?"  exclaimed  the  doctor  excitedly. 

"  The  law,"  answered  the  attorney  gravely, 
"  usually  demands  a  motive,  and  I  think  you 


THE  FIA  T  OF  SCIENCE.  255 

would  find  it  hard  to  find  one  in  this  case  to 
fit  your  hypothesis." 

"  There  I  confess  you  are  right,"  said  the 
physician  rising  and  beginning  to  walk  impa- 
tiently to  and  fro.  "That  a  Negro  should 
wish  to  be  thought  white  is  natural  enough. 
I  have  heard  hundreds  of  them  declare  they 
would  be  willing  to  be  flayed  alive,  if  they 
could  be  white  afterward.  And  indeed,  I  do 
not  blame  them.  But  why  a  white  man  should 
wish  to  be  thought  a  Negro,  I  confess  I  cannot 
understand.  I  suppose  you  or  I  would  rather 
not  be,  than  be  black.  I  cannot  think  of  any- 
thing that  would  induce  the  meanest  white 
man  in  the  country  to  permit  himself  to  be 
considered  a  colored  man  unless  it  were  to 
avert  suspicion  of  a  crime  ;  can  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  known  'such  a  case,"  an- 
swered the  lawyer  gravely. 

"  Except  this  one,  you  mean,"  said  the  doc- 
tor sharply. 

"  I  make  no  exceptions,"  was  the  composed 
reply. 


XXI. 

"AND   FATE   AT   LENGTH   WAS   KIND. 


physician  and  the  lawyer  looked  into 
1  each  other's  eyes  in  silence  for  a  moment. 
Then  the  former  spoke  : 

"  I  confess  I  cannot  make  it  out  ;  can  you  ?  " 

"  The  question  is  not  whether  I  can  re- 
solve your  doubts,  doctor,  but  whether  I  ought 
to  d'o  so." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  the  other  petulantly. 
"That  is  your  affair,  of  course.  You  won't 
deny,  however,  that  I  have  spotted  my  man, 
even  if  I  haven't  solved  the  whole  mystery?" 

"  I  am  not  called  upon  to  a.dmit  or  deny 
anything,  Doctor,"  blandly  rejoined  the  other. 
"  Have  you  any  objection  to  telling  me  what 
is  the  nature  of  the  other  paper  you  found 
upon  your  patient  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  as  cautious  as  you," 
was  the  reply,  "  but  as  it  happens  this  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  case.  It  is  just  a  news- 
paper clipping  which  no  one  could  have  any 
interest  in  perusing.  It  was  probably  used 
merely  to  wrap  around  the  discharge,  which 
256 


"AND  FATE  AT  LENGTH  WAS  KIND."      257 

was  carefully  folded  in  it.  There  it  is.  You 
will  see  that  it  is  an  advertisement  and  a  clip- 
ping from  the  Tuscumbia  Times  of  June  3, 
1862." 

The  doctor  handed  a  loosely  rolled  bit  of 
paper  to  the  other  as  he  spoke.  The  lawyer 
adjusted  his  glasses  and  read  : 

"  A  shocking  tragedy  occured  at  Briar  Hill, 
the  well-known  plantation  of  the  late  Hon. 
McQueen  Collins,  on  Sunday  evening  last.  A 
negro  boy  murderously  assaulted  his  young 
master,  Captain  Junius  Collins,  who  is  now 
lying  at  the  point  of  death  in  consequence.  It 
is  supposed  the  difficulty  arose  because  his 
master  attempted  to  correct  a  colored  girl 
with  whom  the  boy  had  become  enamored. 
Captain  Collins  was  severely  beaten  about  the 
head  with  some  blunt  instrument,  supposed  to 
have  been  a  fence-picket,  as  one  was  found 
near  the  scene  of  the  rencontre  stained  with 
blood.  He  has  been  unconscious  most  of  the 
time  since,  but  hopes  are  now  entertained  of 
his  recovery. 

"  Thus  far  no  trace  has  been  found  of  his 
assailant.  It  is  thought  he  will  try  to  get  into 
the  lines  of  the  Federal  army,  and  he  may  en- 
deavor to  go  North  as  a  white  man,  as  he 
shows  very  little  trace  of  color  and  is  remark- 
ably intelligent,  being  able  to  read  and  write. 
His  conduct  is  another  instance  of  the  folly  of 
over-indulgence.  He  has  always  been  more  a 
companion  than  a  slave  of  his  young  master, 
who  was  very  fond  of  displaying  his  unlawful 


258  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

acquirements  to  special  friends,  and  would 
probably  have  set  him  free  before  this  time 
had  it  not  been  for  the  Yankee  invasion.  The 
near  approach  of  the  Northern  vandals  un- 
doubtedly inspired  the  boy  with  the  pestifer- 
ous ideas  of  freedom  which  they  so  industri- 
ously disseminate  among  the  slave  population, 
and  which  no  doubt  led  to  this  bloody  tragedy. 
It  is  thought  by  some  that  he  and  the  girl 
were  trying  to  escape  when  they  were  inter- 
cepted by  Captain  Collins ;  others  think  the 
assault  the  result  of  jealousy  on  account  of  the 
girl's  preference  for  her  young  master.  She 
herself  pretends  entire  ignorance  of  the  affair. 
She  is  of  very  attractive  appearance,  and  seems 
anxious  for  her  master's  recovery. 

"  The  neighborhood  is  much  excited,  as  the 
fugitive  has  long  been  regarded  as  a  dangerous 
character  by  the  owners  of  slaves  in  this  re- 
gion. There  was  a  talk  of  giving  him  a  taste 
of  hickory  more  than  a  year  ago,  but  Captain 
Collins  interfered,  so  the  matter  was  abandoned. 
If  the  fellow  is  taken  he  will  receive  short  shrift 
at  the  hands  of  his  pursuers,  not  only  on  his 
own  account,  but  as  a  warning  to  the  slave 
population  who  are,  very  generally,  showing 
signs  of  disaffection." 

The  lawyer  sat  looking  over  his  glasses  at 
his  friend,  when  he  ceased  reading  the  frayed 
and  grimy  strip  of  paper  he  still  held  in  his 
hand,  without  speaking. 

"Well,"  said  the  doctor  banteringly,  "  you 
seem  to  have  found  food  for  thought,  even  in 


' 'AND  FA  TE  A  T  LENG  TH  WA  S  KIND. "     259 

that  smudgy  bit  of  paper  accidentally  wrapped 
around  this  old  man's  precious  memento." 

The  attorney  rose  and  walked  back  and 
forth  across  the  floor,  his  great  shapely  head 
hanging  forward  on  his  breast  and  the  gray 
hair  shining  like  mingled  silver  and  steel  in 
the  light  of  the  incandescent  arc,  beneath 
which  he  paced  to  and  fro. 

"  Doctor,"  he  said  at  length,  pausing  to  look 
down  into  his  friend's  face,  "  you  were  in  the 
army,  weren't  you — the  Federal  army,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course." 

"  I  understand,"  said  the  other  with  a  faint 
flush.  "  You  mean  it  is  where  every  one  who 
counted  himself  a  man  in  those  days  should 
have  been.  You  are  quite  right,  too  ;  but  I 
was  not  there.  I  lived  inside  the  Confederate 
lines,  and  before  I  saw  the  matter  in  its  true 
light,  it  was  too  late  for  me  to  hope  to  do  much 
good,  even  if  I  had  succeeded  in  getting  out ;  so 
I  waited  for  the  end — a  mere  inert  atom,  count- 
ing for  nothing  in  the  great  conflict.  This 
has  given  me  a  great  reverence  for  the  men 
who  fought  for  the  right,  and  a  sort  of  resent- 
ful pity  for  those  who  fought  for  the  wrong  ; 
but  it  has  left  me  ignorant  of  a  good  many 
things  you  must  have  come  to  regard  as  almost 
instinctive  knowledge,  such  as  the  constitution 
and  movement  of  your  armies." 


26o  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  I  see,"  responded  the  physician  with  a 
quick  nod. 

"  Now,  does  it  strike  you  as  at  all  singular 
that  this  P.  P.  Smith  should  have  been  mus- 
tered into  an  Indiana  regiment  '  near  Shell 
Mound,  Tenn.'?" 

"  It  was  unusual,  perhaps,  hardly  singular. 
Men  often  journeyed  to  the  front  in  order  to 
take  service  in  a  favorite  corps,"  was  the  reply. 

"  No  doubt.  So,  too,  I  suppose  a  resident 
of  that  region  who  desired  to  enter  the  Union 
service  would  enlist  in  a  Northern  regiment?" 

"  Very  seldom,  I  think.  Such  men  would 
have  been  apt  to  join  some  of  the  various  South- 
ern regiments — so-called  at  least.  Special  in- 
ducements were  offered  to  such  recruits." 

"  Such  a  regiment,  then,  would  afford  a  very 
secure  hiding-place  for — well,  for  a  '  colored  ' 
boy,  who  was  really  white  and  could  read  and 
write,  like  this  one  who  had  the  difficulty  with 
his  master?  " 

"  It  would  have  been  an  almost  perfect 
sanctuary  for  him." 

"And  suppose,  doctor,  taking  all  we  know — 
would  it  simplify  matters,  supply  a  motive,  if 
we  should  say  that  the  '  boy '  who  ran  away 
was  the  soldier,  P.  P.  Smith,  who  joined  the 
Union  army  ten  days  later?  " 

"  It  would  account    for   everything — every- 


'  'AND  FATE  AT  LENG  TH  WA  S  KIND."      261 

thing !  "  exclaimed  the  other  emphatically, 
"  and  besides  that— 

"  Besides  that,"  interrupted  the  lawyer  se- 
verely, "  besides  that,  doctor,  it  would  destroy 
a  brave  man's  hope — render  vain  the  sacrifice 
of  a  whole  life,  if  it  were  known." 

"  How  so  ?     I  do  not  understand." 

"  Don't  you  see,  Doctor,  the  man's  whole  life 
has  been  a  struggle  against  the  curse  of  color? 
First  in  his  own  person,  and  then  for  his  child, 
he  has  labored  to  throw  off  the  fetters  of  caste 
which  civilization  and  Christianity  has  fastened 
on  his  race — the  curse  which  makes  the  Negro 
a  hopeless  inferior  and  invokes  the  law  of  God — 
the  religion  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth — to  keep 
him  so  !  " 

"  It  is  true,"  said  the  doctor,  solemnly,  "  all 
too  true  ;  but  what  can  I  do  to  help  or  to 
hinder?" 

"  It  is  necessary  for  the  success  of  his  scheme, 
that  he  should  live  and  die — a  Negro  !  " 

"  I  understand  ;  but  you  don't  expect  me  to 
kill  him?" 

"  Not  at  all ;  but  you  can  guard  his  secret." 

"  The  physician  is  never  a  tattler." 

"  I  did  not  mean  that ;  I  know  you  would 
not  reveal  what — what  has  been  guessed ;  but 
if  he  should  die?" 

"  Well  ?  " 


262  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  He  must  be  buried — as  a  Negro  !  " 

"  Ah,  I  understand,"  said  the  physician, 
catching  his  breath.  "  You  mean  the  certifi- 
cate? " 

"  Of  course." 

"  I  don't  know."  He  gazed  into  the  fire  a 
moment  and  added  :  "  I  never  did  such  a  thing 
in  my  life." 

"  As  what  ?  " 

"  Make  a  false  certificate." 

"  Who  asks  it  ?  " 

"Well,  of  course,  there  may  be  some  little — 
admixture — " 

"  How  much  colored  blood  does  it  take  to 
make  a  man  a  Negro?" 

"I  understand;  a  drop  is  enough — even  a 
suspicion  of  a  drop — for  the  world,  society — 
perhaps  for  the  Church  ;  but  medically,  scien- 
tifically— "  He  shook  his  head.  "You  see,"  he 
added,  "  I  have  always  been  accustomed  to  tell 
the  truth  professionally,  so  far  as  I  know  it,  at 
least." 

"  Or  have  reason  to  believe,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  And  have  you  not  reason  to  believe  that 
this  man  is  what  is  known  and  termed  a  col- 
ored man?  There  is  Dr.  Darling,  you  know, 
and — 

"  I  believe  I  have.     At  least  I'll  risk  it  for 


''AND  FA  TE  A  T  LENGTH  WAS  KIND."      263 

once,  giving  him  the  benefit  of  the  doubt  of 
which  he  himself  took  advantage.  After  all,  a 
physician  is  not  bound  to  know  more  of  a 
man's  pedigree  than  he  himself  declares.  I 
give  you  my  word,  that  if  your  client  dies  on 
my  hands  he  shall  be  buried  as  a  nigger,  so  far 
as  I  am  concerned  at  least.  But  how  about 
the  others  ?  " 

"  His  wishes  will  be  law  to  them." 

"Is  it  possible  that  this  man  Collins — or  any 
of  the  family — 

"  I  will  answer  for  them,"  interrupted  the 
lawyer.  He  opened  and  shut  his  right  hand 
as  he  spoke,  as  if  clutching  another's  throat. 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  the  physician,  catching  the 
suggestion.  "  Curious  he  chose  that  name 
for  the  girl,  isn't  it  ?  Why  do  you  suppose  he 
did  so?" 

"  Family  pride,  mostly.  It  was  the  name 
she  should  have  been  entitled  to,  and  despite 
its  aristocratic  quality,  has  probably  never 
been  worn  by  one  who  deserved  so  well  of  the 
country  as  he." 

"  Dear  me !  dear  me !  "  said  the  doctor, 
petulantly.  "  I  thought  when  slavery  was 
abolished  there  would  be  an  end  of  all 
these  things — questions  of  color,  I  mean  ; 
but  really,  it  seems  as  if  they  would  never 
disappear." 


264  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"Doctor,"  said  the  lawyer  solemnly,  "we 
both  claim  to  be  true  men  and  Christians.  We 
may  as  well  recognize  the  fact  that  slavery 
was  but  the  seeding :  the  harvest  is  just 
begun  !  " 

"  And  when  will  it  end  ?" 

"  When  right  is  established  and  wrong  is  for- 
gotten ! " 

"A  long  time  to  wait  for  a  cure,"  said  the 
physician  with  a  shrug. 

"  So  much  the  more  need  that  the  remedy 
be  not  delayed." 

"The  remedy?  Ah,  my  friend,  we  who 
deal  with  the  body  have  trouble  enough  with 
remedies, — but  for  the  soul,  for  the  body  poli- 
tic— what  specific  is  there  ?  " 

"  There  is  but  one." 

"  And  that—" 

Before  the  lawyer  could  reply,  the  telephone 
bell  in  the  consulting-room  sounded  a  sharp 
alarm.  Both  men  started  and  looked  in 
each  other's  faces  with  apprehension.  The 
physician  hurried  to  the  instrument,  and  the 
lawyer  standing  in  the  inner  room  listened 
anxiously  to  the  one-sided  conversation  which 
was  addressed  to  the  office-wall. 

"  Hello!" 

"Yes." 

"  All  right." 


"AND  FATE  AT  LENGTH  WAS  KIND."      265 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  then  he 
heard  the  doctor's  voice  again. 

"Hello?" 

"Yes;  who  is  this?" 

"  What  ? " 

"You  don't  say  ?" 

"  Very  well ;  I'll  send  him.     Good-by." 

He  hung  the  instrument  on  its  hook  and 
returned  moodily  to  his  friend. 

"Well?" 

"  It's  all  over." 

"  Poor  fellow  !  " 

"  It  is  best  so.  I  knew  it  could  not  be  long, 
but  did  not  expect  it  quite  so  soon.  He  was 
worn  out,  you  see — the  fight  had  been  too 
much  for  him.  It  was  a  very  interesting  case, 
though,  and  I  would  liked  to  have  studied  it 
more  at  leisure." 

He  sat  down  at  his  desk  and  drew  toward 
him  a  pad  of  printed  blanks. 

"Are  you  going  with  me?  "asked  the  law- 
yer as  he  drew  on  his  overcoat. 

"  I  may  as  well,"  was  the  reply  as  the  certifi- 
cate was  speedily  filled  out.  "  Do  you  know 
his  age?"  The  lawyer  shook  his  head. 
"  Look  at  the  discharge ;  that  will  give  us  a 
clue." 

The  lawyer  put  on  his  glasses  and  read  the 
creased  and  worn  document  once  more. 


266  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"Twenty-four?  That  would  make  forty- 
nine  !  Phelps,  he  was  a  good  ten  years  younger 
than  either  of  us  and  looked  thirty  years 
older!  He  must  have  had  a  good  constitution 
too  ;  but  such  things  as  he  endured  have  to  be 
paid  for.  Men  live  fast  who  suffer,  and  he  died 
of  old  age  as  surely  as  if  his  years  had  been 
fourscore." 

"You  do  not  think  it  was  the  injury, 
then?" 

"Injury?  Yes,  such  an  injury  as  stops  a 
watch  when  the  pivots  are  worn  out — a  jar 
that  disengages  the  wheels ;  that  was  all. 
There  it  is." 

He  pushed  the  certificate  across  the  desk. 
It  was  endorsed  : 

Pactolus  Prime,  Colored. 

Age,  Seventy  Years. 

Cause,  General  Debility. 

"  I've  done  my  part,  you  see.  If  the  truth 
breaks  through  that  crust  and  causes  trouble 
to  those  whom  he  lived  and  lied  so  long  to 
save,  it's  not  my  fault.  It  is  my  opinion  they 
have  only  to  maintain  a  prudent  silence  to  be 
regarded  as  ornaments  of  the  best  society  and 
allowed  to  go  to  heaven,  side  by  side  with  the 
richest  and  most  exemplary  Christians  of  the 
city.  Queer,  isn't  it,  that  a  lie  should  be  the 


"AND  FATE  AT  LENGTH  WAS  KIND."      267 

only  key  that  can  open  to  such  deserving  souls 
the  doors  of  a  really  respectable  church,  and 
give  them  the  entrde  of  respectable  homes?" 

The  bells  rang  out  the  closing  hours  of 
Christmas,  as  the  lawyer  folded  the  certificate 
and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 


XXII. 

RETURN  OF  PROCESS. 

IT  was  the  day  after  Christmas.  It  was  very 
late  when  Mr.  Phelps  reached  his  office.  He 
placed  his  hat  and  coat  upon  the  rack ;  read  in 
an  absent-minded  way  the  memorandum  of  the 
day's  engagements  his  clerk  had  prepared  for 
him;  opened  a  drawer  of  his  desk  ;  took  out  a 
bundle  of  papers,  which  he  untied  and  ex- 
amined, more  as  if  to  refresh  his  memory  as  to 
its  contents  than  for  any  other  purpose,  and 
then  went  and  stood  before  the  fire.  There 
was  a  thoughtful  frown  upon  his  brow,  and  he 
bit  one  side  of  his  under  lip,  now  and  then,  as 
if  greatly  perplexed.  The  day  was  cold,  but 
as  bright  as  the  preceding  one  had  been  stormy. 
The  streets  were  thronged.  The  Christmas 
festivities  had  not  ended.  The  crowds  were 
very  gay,  as  beseemed  a  Christian  people  after 
such  a  holiday.  He  watched  them  through 
the  window  meditatively,  as  if  the  sights 
awakened  unpleasant  thoughts. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

"  Come,"  he  said  absently. 
268 


RETURN  OF  PROCESS.  269 

"Ah,  Major,"  he  exclaimed,  as  the  one-armed 
attorney  entered.  "  How  do  you  do  this 
morning?  And  the  Madame — I  hope  the 
Christmas  was  a  pleasant  one  to  her." 

"Thanks  to  you,  yes,"  said  the  good-natured 
fellow,  taking  the  other's  outstretched  hand, 
but  quickly  releasing  it  to  remove  his  hat. 

"  Let  me  take  it,"  said  Phelps  quietly,  "  and 
your  cloak." 

He  took  hold  of  the  lapel  as  he  spoke  ;  the 
new-comer  turned  quickly  and  left  the  garment 
in  his  hand.  The  movement  had  that  easy, 
unexpected  grace  which  only  the  unfortunate 
acquire. 

"  Some  improvement  on  yesterday,"  he 
added,  as  he  seated  himself  beside  the  open 
grate. 

"  Real  Washington  weather,"  answered 
Phelps  carelessly. 

''  Yes,"  said  the  other,  with  a  shrug,  "  seven 
months  April  and  five  months  August." 

"  Is  that  the  best  you  can  say  of  our  cli- 
mate ?  " 

"  Isn't  it  good  enough  ?  It  seems  to  me  a 
curiously  unfortunate  location  for  the  capital, — 
between  the  North  and  South,  socially,  politi- 
cally, and  climatically.  After  all,  as  an  old 
neighbor  used  to  say,  '  It's  a  right  good  place 
to  be  alive  in.'  " 


270  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

11  Just  so,"  said  the  elder  man,  with  an  up- 
lifting of  the  eyebrows  to  show  his  apprecia- 
tion of  the  other's  humor.  Then,  after  a  mo- 
ment:  "Well,  did  you  get  service  on  our 
friend  Collins,  Major  ?  " 

"  That  I  did,"  answered  the  one-armed  vete» 
ran.  "  Got  deputized  and  did  it  myself." 

"  How  did  he  take  it  ?  " 

"Mad  enough  at  first,  but  when  he  had 
cooled  down  a  bit  and  looked  at  the  papers, 
not  so  unreasonable,  after  all." 

"  Did  not  object  to  it's  being  done  on  a  holi- 
day, then?" 

"Didn't  say  anything  about  it." 

"  Does  he  mean  to  fight  ?  " 

"  He  talked  pretty  loud,  and  I  told  him  we 
didn't  expect  anything  else;  that  to  my  mind 
a  fight  was  all  the  fun  there  was  in  a  lawsuit, 
and  all  the  money  there  is  in  one  for  a  lawyer. 
This  seemed  to  strike  him  as  a  new  idea, 
though  it  is  the  oldest  kind  of  a  notion  to  me ; 
and  he  asked  me  to  sit  down  while  he  read  the 
papers  carefully.  He  isn't  half  a  bad  fellow, 
though  the  moss  has  grown  on  his  back  so 
thick  that  one  has  to  sink  a  shaft  through  it, 
to  get  at  him." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Phelps,  with  an  appre- 
ciative nod. 

"  Well,  I  sat  down,  and  he   put  on  his  spec- 


RE  TURN  OF  PROCESS.  2  7 1 

tacles  and  went  through  those  papers  as  sol- 
emnly as  an  owl.  He's  got  plenty  of  horse- 
sense,  and  would  be  a  bad  man  to  fool  with  if 
once  aroused,  though  he  hasn't  rubbed  up 
"against  the  world  a  great  deal  lately.  He's  one 
of  those  men  who  know  things  without  having 
to  study  details,  and  when  he  got  through 
reading  the  papers  he  knew  a  deal  more  about 
the  case  than  your  counsel  did,  though  I  had 
not  failed  to  look  them  over  pretty  carefully, 
myself." 

"  You  did  not  have  the  key  that  he  pos- 
sesses," said  the  other  smiling. 

"  That  was  evident  the  very  first  word  he 
said,"  laughed  the  Major. 

"What  was  that?" 

"  After  he'd  read  the  papers  all  through,  he 
took  off  his  glasses,  stroked  his  beard,  looked 
out  of  the  window,  as  if  he  had  all  of  time  and 
a  good  deal  of  eternity  to  do  his  business  in. 
I  wasn't  in  any  hurry  either,  so  I  waited. 
Besides,  the  man  interested  me,  and  I  began  to 
think  there  might  be  something  in  him." 

"  Couldn't  be  a  Collins  and  not  be  worth 
studying." 

"  So  I  found  out.  Well,  after  a  time,  he 
turned  to  me  and  asked  without  any  prelimi- 
naries ;  '  What  do  you  know  about  this  man, 
P.  P.  Smith?"' 


2?2  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

Phelps  laughed  dryly. 

"•What  did  you  tell  him,  Major?  I'm  curi- 
ous to  know  what  answer  you  would  make  to 
such  a  question." 

"  'Twasn't  easy  to  know  what  I  ought  to  say, 
but  I  concluded  to  fall  back  on  that  last  refuge 
of  the  unwilling  witness — the  truth.  So  I  told 
him  'the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth,'  as  if  I  had  been  on  oath." 

"And  what  was  that?" 

"  That  I  didn't  know  a  blamed  thing  about 
the  man  with  the  pluperfect  name,  except  what 
appeared  in  the  papers." 

"  That  ivas  a  safe  answer,"  said  Phelps, 
laughing  heartily. 

"  It  turned  out  to  be  the  very  best  one  I 
could  have  made.  The  old  fellow  thawed  out 
and  limbered  up,  and  laughed  until  the  tears 
came,  over  that  answer,  as  if  it  was  the  best 
joke  of  the  season.  Finally,  he  caught  his 
breath  long  enough  to  say  that  he  could  see  I 
had  not  a  very  large  practice.  I  told  him  his 
conclusion  was  correct,  but  that  his  manners 
were  simply  execrable.  Thereupon  he  sobered 
down  at  once,  begged  my  pardon,  and  said  he 
only  meant  that  I  was  too  much  inclined  to 
truth-telling  to  get  on  at  the  bar.  I  answered 
him  that  it  was  rather  tough  to  have  one's 
veracity  complimented  at  the  expense  of  his 


RETURN  OF  PROCESS.  273 

professional  standing.  Whereupon  the  old  fel- 
low came  quite  down;  asked  me  to  take  "a 
'  nip '  with  him,  and  said  that  as  I  had  been  so 
candid  with  him,  he  would  be  equally  frank 
with  me.  So,  while  we  absorbed  the  refresh- 
ments he  ordered  up,  he  told  me  as  queer  a 
story  as  I've  ever  listened  to. 

"  In  the  first  place,  he  said,  there  was  no  use 
of  any  litigation,  at  all,  if  the  man  we  represent 
can  identify  himself  as  actually  the  man  he 
claims  to  be.  In  that  event,  he  said,  there  was 
no  doubt  that,  as  executor  of  his  brother,  Junius 
Collins,  he  would  not  only  have  to  surrender 
the  plantation,  but  account  for  the  mesne 
profits.  The  estate  he  said  was  amply  good, 
and  as  he  was  the  only  heir  who  could  interpose 
an  objection,  we  might  rest  satisfied  that  there 
would  be  no  factious  opposition.  Then  he  told 
me  that  some  few  months  ago  his  brother  had 
died,  leaving  a  will  in  which  he  bequeathed 
this  property,  and  a  good  part  of  his  estate 
beside,  to  the  widow  of  this  same  P.  P.  Smith, 
if  living,  and  in  case  of  her  death,  to  a  son  of 
said  widow,  born  before  her  marriage,  and  di- 
rected his  executors  to  expend  a  certain  sum 
in  discovering  the  said  devisees,  or  either  of 
them.  In  case  proof  of  the  death  of  both  was 
obtained,  the  will  directed  that  the  property 
should  go  to  the  residuary  legatee,  which  is 


274  PAC TOL US  PRIME. 

the  brother  himself.  Until  such  proof  is 
secured,  his  title  remains  imperfect  and  con- 
tingent merely.  That  is  evidently  the  cause 
of  his  special  interest  in  the  health  and  safety 
of  our  P.  P.  S.,  who  seems  to  be  one  of  those 
lucky  mortals  who  live  to  witness  not  only  the 
grief  of  his  own  widow,  but  the  frantic  efforts 
of  the  stranger  to  console  her  woe." 

As  the  Major  proceeded  with  his  recital,  his 
client  nodded  now  and  then  in  confirmation  of 
his  statements. 

"  He  said,"  the  other  continued,  "  that  he 
did  not  suppose  a  man  of  your  character  and 
position  would  yourself  become  a  party  to  such 
an  action,  unless  you  were  able  to  show  very 
clearly  'the  identity  of-  the  person  through 
whom  you  claimed  with  the  former, — or  per- 
haps he  ought  to  say,  the  real  owner  of  the 
property.  As  to  his  brother's  title,  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  say  that  it  was  good  only  against 
the  widow  of  Smith,  and  only  to  the  extent  of 
her  interest  in  her  husband's  estate,  if  she  were 
really  a  widow  at  the  time  she  signed  the  deed. 
This,  he  said,  he  had  already  had  reason  to 
doubt,  and  if  you  could  establish  that  fact,  he 
should  make  no  further  contest  in  the  matter." 

"  I  am  sure,"  said  Phelps,  "  that  was  very  rea- 
sonable— especially  when  you  consider  the 
man  and  his  relation  to  the  estate." 


RETURN  OF  PROCESS.  275 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Major,  "  and  his  broth- 
er's relation  to  the  matter,  too." 

"Did  he  tell  you  that?" 

"  I  think  he  told  me  all  he  knew,  keeping 
nothing  back.  Anyhow  the  story  was  strange 
enough  to  be  a  true  one.  You  know  all  the 
wonderful  things  are  facts,  nowadays,  and  only 
the  commonplace  ones,  fiction.  Well,  to  make 
what  was  a  long  story  as  he  told  it,  short, 
because  I  cannot  do  it  justice  in  the  telling,  he 
says  that  some  time  along  about  the  begin- 
ning of  the  war,  his  brother,  who  was  a  Con- 
federate officer  by  the  way,  became  enam- 
ored of  a  very  pretty  slave-girl  belonging  to 
their  mother,  who  was  a  widow.  His  infatu- 
ation led  him  to  come  home  from  the  army 
without  leave,  and  he  was  only  saved  from 
being  proceeded  against  as  a  deserter,  by  the 
fact  that  he  was  assaulted  by  the  girl's  Negro 
lover,  and  so  badly  injured  about  the  head  that 
he  was  unable  to  return  to  duty. 

"  For  a  long  time  he  was  thoroughly  de- 
mented and  would  allow  nobody  to  approach 
him  or  care  for  him  except  the  girl,  whom  he 
would  hardly  permit  out  of  his  sight.  His 
brother,  the  defendant  in  your  action,  who  had 
remained  at  home  to  look  after  the  plantation, 
took  his  place  in  the  army,  this  fact,  together 
with  his  mental  condition,  saving  him  from  con- 


2  7  6  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

dign  punishment.  Toward  the  close  of  the 
war,  his  condition  seemed  to  improve,  but  he 
never  fully  recovered  his  former  mental  sound- 
ness ;  so  his  brother  thinks  at  least." 

"  He  showed  very  good  sense  in  the  manage- 
ment of  this  property,"  said  Phelps,  with  an 
incredulous  smile. 

"That  his  brother  admits,"  responded  the 
Major,  "  but  he  says  it's  a  family  failing. 
'  A  Collins,'  he  says,  '  don't  need  good  sense  to 
make  money.'  ' 

"  Perhaps  it  is  not  the  very  highest  quality 
of  mind,"  said  the  elder  lawyer,  with  mock 
gravity. 

"  It's  always  been  just  a  peg  above  my 
capacity,  anyhow,"  replied  the  other  good 
naturedly,  as  he  took  out  a  paper  of  tobacco, 
laid  it  on  his  knee,  and  with  his  one  hand 
deftly  separated  a  portion,  rolled  it  between 
his  fingers  and  deposited  it  in  his  mouth. 

The  elder  observed  him  without  seeming  to 
do  so,  wondering  at  the  skill  displayed  in  the 
manipulation  of  the  package. 

"Well,"  continued  the  Major,  "he  says,  at 
any  rate,  that  his  brother  never  got  over  his 
infatuation  for  the  girl,  and  that  made  him  a 
fool  always  afterwards.  It  seems  that  soon 
after  the  close  of  the  war,  the  girl  ran  away 
with  this  P.  P.  Smith,  who  was  an  officer  in 


RETURN  OF  PROCESS.  277 

a  colored  regiment  stationed  near  where  his 
brother  lived,  taking  with  her  a  child  born  some 
two  years  before.  She  was  a  very  attractive 
woman,  it  seems,  and,  as  Collins  says,  very  rea- 
sonably preferred  being  the  wife  of  a  low-down 
white  man,  to  remaining  the  mistress  even  of  a 
Collins,  now  that  freedom  had  cast  the  respon- 
sibility of  self-control  upon  her.  As  to  the 
man  who  married  her,  he  thinks  that  she 
passed  herself  off  to  him  as  a  widow  and 
white,  which  he  says  she  might  easily  have 
done,  as  there  was  no  trace  of  colored  blood 
about  her.  She  was  not  one  of  the  regular 
stock  of  slaves  belonging  to  the  family, 
but  had  been  purchased,  nominally  as  a  maid 
for  their  sister,  but  really,  as  I  gathered,  to 
save  the  brother  from  having  a  liaison  with  a 
slave  belonging  to  another  family. 

"  After  her  disappearance,  it  seems,  he  did  not 
rest  until  he  had  traced  her  out.  It  took  him 
several  years,  and  then  it  was  more  by  accident 
than  skill  that  he  found  her  and  her  husband 
settled  on  a  valuable  plantation  in  South 
Carolina.  Just  what  occurred,  after  this,  Col- 
lins says  he  has  been  unable  to  learn.  His 
brother  settled  in  the  neighborhood,  and  he 
infers  resumed  his  old  relations  with  the 
wife.  Of  this,  however,  he  has  no  certain 
evidence.  Soon  afterwards  the  husband  dis- 


278  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

appeared — was  reported  to  have  been  killed. 
He  had  been  active  in  politics  and  had  made 
himself  '  obnoxious,' as  the  saying 'is  in  that 
section,  to  the  '  respectable  people '  of  the 
region  by  the  free  expression  of  his  opinions. 
Whether  his  brother  had  anything  to  do  with 
this  affair  or  not  he  does  not  know,  but  can- 
didly states  that  he  deems  it  very  probable 
that  he  had. 

"  After  the  husband's  disappearance,  his 
brother  took  up  his  residence  with  the  widow, 
ostensibly  to  protect  her  from  violence.  This, 
his  brother  believes  to  have  been  a  mere 
pretense.  Soon  afterwards  he  secured  a  lease 
of  the  plantation  from  the  widow,  and  not  long 
after  she  executed  to  him  a  deed.  He  is 
known  to  have  paid  her  a  considerable  sum  of 
money,  though  nothing  like  the  real  value  of 
the  property,  on  which  he  soon  developed  some 
of  the  richest  phosphate  beds  in  the  State,  from 
which  he  derived  a  large  revenue  up  to  the 
time  of  his  death  and  which  are  still  very  valu- 
able. Soon  after  the  purchase  of  this  property 
the  widow,  too,  disappeared,  taking  her  eldest 
child  with  her.  Another  child  had  been  born 
during  her  marriage,  but  this  one — a  girl — had 
somehow  disappeared  soon  after  the  killing  of 
her  husband.  He  does  not  conceal  his  belief 
that  his  brother  was  privy  to  the  child's  dis- 


RE  TURN  OF  PROCESS.  2  7  9 

appearance  as  well  as  that  of  the  father. 
This  was,  he  admits,  the  general  impression 
in  the  neighborhood  both  at  the  time  and 
since." 

"  It  is  a  very  curious  condition  of  society  that 
permits  such  things,"  mused  the  elder  man. 

"Curious?"  exclaimed  the  other.  "You 
take  it  very  coolly,  because,  I  suppose,  you  are 
more  familiar  with  its  aspects  than  I.  For 
myself,  I  must  confess,  my  feelings  vibrated 
between  rage  and  wonder  during  the  recital. 
It  did  not  seem  possible  that  it  could  be  the 
latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  in  which 
these  things  happened,  or  an  intelligent,  well- 
educated,  upright,  Christian  American,  who 
spoke  so  lightly  and  coolly  of  them.  I  think 
I  should  have  pinched  myself  to  see  if  I  was 
awake,  if  I  had  had  an  extra  hand  not  needed 
to  hold  my  glass." 

"  What  became  of  the  woman  and  child  ?  " 

"  That,  he  says,  is  a  mystery  he  is  unable  to 
solve  as  yet.  His  brother  was  unable  to  find 
them,  though  he  made  diligent  search  for 
them  after  some  little  time  had  elapsed.  At 
first,  it  would  appear  as  if  he  expected  her 
to  return  of  her  own  accord,  or  at  least  give 
some  hint  of  her  whereabouts.  After  he  had 
given  up  hope  of  this,  it  seemed  that  the  track 
got  too  cold  to  permit  of  her  being  traced." 


280  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

"  It  must  have  sounded  like  a  romance  to 
you,  Major,"  said  Phelps  meditatively. 

"  Romance  !  "  exclaimed  the  Major  with  a 
shrug.  "  Say  rather  an  o'er  true  tale  of  some 
dark  age  brought  suddenly  into  juxtaposition 
with  ours.  Especially  was  this  so  when  he 
tried  to  connect  the  poor  fellow  with  one  of 
the  bravest  men  I  ever  had  in  my  command, — 
the  color-sergeant  of  my  regiment,  who  was 
promoted  for  gallantry  in  being  the  first  man 
to  get  the  flag  to  the  top  of  Mission  Ridge." 

"  Same  name?  "  asked  Phelps  carelessly. 

"  Yes  ;  and  the  same  nickname,  too, '  Pepper- 
pod.'  ' 

"  Perhaps  the  same  man." 

"  I  declare,  I  hope  not.  He  was  too  good  a 
fellow  to  have  so  much  bad  luck." 

"  Getting  killed,  you  mean  ?  " 

"That — and — everything!  " 

"  Do  you  think  you  would  recognize  your 
old  sergeant  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know :  twenty-five  years  makes  a 
difference  in  a  man's  appearance,  especially  if 
he  spent  a  quadrennium  in  the  service." 

"  Ever  seen  him  since?  " 

"  Never ;  and  hadn't  thought  of  him  for 
years  until  yesterday  in  the  Best  House.  By 
the  way,  old  man  Prime  seemed  to  know 
him — and  me  too.  I  meant  to  have  had  an- 


RETURN  OF  PROCESS.  281 

other  talk  with  him,  but  I  see  the  old  fellow  is 
dead." 

"  Died  last  night,"  said  Phelps,  as  he  went 
to  his  desk  and  picked  up  the  package  of 
papers  lying  on  it.  Selecting  one,  he  returned 
and  handed  his  friend  a  small  photograph,  evi- 
dently a  copy  from  some  other  style  of  picture. 

"  That's  the  man,"  said  Wolcott  as  soon  as 
he  caught  sight  of  the  face. 

The  elder  man  nodded. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  "  said  the  veteran,  medita- 
tively, "  He  deserved  better  luck." 

"  He  became  very  rich  after  he  came  here." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that.  I  was  afraid  this  suit 
was  the  only  chance  he  had  for  any  comfort  in 
his  old  age." 

"  Well,  this  estate  is  quite  a  plum  of  itself." 

"  So  it  is.  By  the  way,  if  you  can  satisfy 
Collins  about  the  matter  without  letting  him 
know  the  whereabouts  of  your  client — or  your 
alienee  rather,  though  I  suppose  the  terms  are 
synonymous — " 

The  other  assented  with  a  nod. 

"  Well,  as  I  say,  if  you  can  keep  from  putting 
him  in  possession  of  his  whereabouts,  I  think 
you  had  better  do  so.  He  seems  willing 
enough  to  give  up  the  property, — knowing  he 
can't  hold  it, — but  somehow,  I've  a  notion  that 
he's  got  a  different  sort  of  an  account  to  settle 


282  PA  CTOL  US  PRIME. 

with  Mr.  P.  P.  Smith  if  he  should  ever  set  eyes 
on  him." 

"  For  what  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  know.  He  intimated  that  a  party 
of  Negroes — at  least  he  supposes  they  were 
Negroes,  and  considering  what  he  admits  had 
already  occurred,  it  would  seem  natural  that 
they  should  be,  if  there  is  any  human  nature 
in  the  race — at  any  rate,  somebody  broke  into 
his  brother's  house,  some  few  months  after  he 
had  taken  charge  of  the  dead  man's  affairs,  and 
treated  him  pretty  bad — mutilated  him,  you 
know.  I  think  he  has  a  notion  that  Smith  had 
something  to  do  with  it." 

"  The  man  is  dead,"  said  Phelps  gravely. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  of  it,"  answered  the  other 
with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"I  declare,  Major,"  laughed  Phelps,  "you 
are  a  contradiction.  A  little  while  ago  you 
were  pitying  the  poor  fellow's  bad  luck,  and 
now  here  you  are  thanking  your  stars  that  he 
is  dead  ! " 

"  It  does  seem  queer,"  answered  the  Major 
gravely,  "  but  I  was  in  earnest  both  times. 
There's  something  eerie  about  the  whole  mat- 
ter, and  I'm  glad  there  can't  be  any  more  of  it. 
When  can  you  see  Mr.  Collins  ?  " 

"At  two  o'clock,  if  convenient  for  him,"  re- 
sponded Phelps,  consulting  his  memorandum. 


RETURN  OF  PROCESS.  283 

"  All  right.  I  know  that  will  be  satisfactory. 
Do  you  wish  me  to  be  present." 

"  I  guess  we  shall  want  you — afterwards," 
was  the  reply  with  a  meaning  smile. 

"  I  understand,"  said  the  Major. 

Before  the  other  could  bring  his  hat  he  had 
taken  it  from  the  rack,  clapped  it  on  his  head, 
and  with  a  deft  movement  of  body  and  arm 
swung  his  cloak  upon  his  shoulders. 

"  Good-by,"  he  called  as  he  slipped  out, 
catching  the  door-knob  with  his  one  hand  as  it 
closed  behind  him,  and  ran  briskly  down  the 
stairs. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  ADVANTAGE   OF  BEING  DEAD. 

AT  the  hour  designated  Mr.  Phelps  sat  at  his 
desk,  and  facing  him  across  the  corner  of 
the  green  baize  top  was  Mr.  Ephraim  Collins. 
Tall,  narrow,  his  forehead  high  and  his  beard 
and  hair  of  that  dull  brown  so  often  met  with 
at  the  South  as  to  be  almost  characteristic  of 
that  section,  he  was  a  good  type  of  its  best 
life.  To  see  him  as  he  sat,  neither  lounging 
nor  erect,  in  the  large  arm-chair,  but  just  ac- 
commodating his  attitude  to  the  requirements 
of  ease  and  absolute  attention,  one  readily 
recognized  him  as  a  product  of  plantation- 
life  not,  as  it  has  been  so  often  pictured,  clam- 
orous and  self-assertive,  but  reserved,  intense, 
careless  of  personal  surroundings  but  full  of 
power,  capable  of  long-sustained  effort  and  of 
unconquerable  determination.  His  small  gray 
eyes  were  fixed  steadily  upon  the  lawyer's  face, 
not  with  any  expression  of  suspicion  but  with 
that  intentness  which  comes  from  habitual  iso- 
lation and  constant  association  with  inferiors. 
284 


THE  ADVANTAGE   OF  BEING  DEAD.      285 

"  There  is  no  need  for  us  to  beat  about  the 
bush,  Mr.  Collins,"  the  lawyer  was  saying.  "  I 
claim  the  property  by  demise  from  P.  P.  Smith. 
There  is  the  deed  ;  I  think  it  is  in  due  form." 

The  other  glanced  carelessly  at  the  docu- 
ment, laid  it  down  upon  the  desk,  rested  his 
left  hand  upon  it,  and  looked  up  at  the  lawyer 
without  making  any  reply. 

"  Here,"  continued  the  latter,  "  is  a  photo- 
graph of  my  alienor  taken  several  years  ago." 

Mr.  Collins  took  it,  gazed  at  it  intently,  and 
raised  his  eyes  again  to  the  lawyer's,  still  re- 
maining silent. 

"  These  are  photographs  of  his  wife,  one  of 
them  taken  several  years  ago,  the  other  re- 
cently. If  you  have  any  doubt  in  regard  to 
the  matter  she  can  be  produced." 

"  I  haven't  any  doubt  that  she's  alive,  Mr. 
Phelps,  because  you  tell  me  so,  and  even  if  you 
were  inclined  to  do  otherwise,  a  man  in  your 
position  cannot  afford  to  speak  anything  but 
the  truth  in  regard  to  such  a  matter.  And  as 
it  seems  she  was  not  a  widow  when  she  exe- 
cuted the  deed,  my  brother's  claim  of  title 
falls.  The  only  question  between  us  now  is, 
what  his  estate  ought  to  pay  for  the  use  of  the 
property.  I  don't  reckon  we'll  disagree  very 
greatly  about  that.  My  brother's  books  show 
exactly  what  he  made  each  year,  and  I  will 


286  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

submit  them  to  your  inspection.  I  don't  sup- 
pose the  owner  really  had  any  right  to  assign 
his  claim  for  mesne  profits,  but  I  make  no  ob- 
jection. They  might  as  well  be  settled  in  this 
suit  as  in  another ;  but  I'd  like  to  ask  one 
question." 

The  gray  eyes  beamed  like  fire  under  the 
overhanging  brows,  but  not  a  muscle  of  his 
face  moved  nor  did  his  voice  betray  any  un- 
usual emotion. 

"What  is  that?" 

"  I  want  to  know  where  this  man,  P.  P. 
Smith,  is?" 

"  Why  do  you  wish  to  know  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  see  him — once — just  once." 

"  I  think  it  might  be  arranged — if  you  deem 
it  necessary  to  resolve  any  doubts  as  to  kis 
identity." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  shall  ever  be  fully  satis- 
fied until  I  have  looked  him  in  the  face." 

"  Is  it  necessary  you  should  see  him  before 
our  business  is  concluded  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not  at  all :  I  can  wait.  In  fact  I'd 
rather  not  see  him  until  our  matters  are  all 
settled." 

"I  hope  you  do  not  seek  any  personal  difrl- 
c  ilty  with  him  ?  " 

"  My  reasons  for  desiring  to  make  his  ac- 
quaintance are — satisfactory  to  myself,  sir. 


THE  ADVANTAGE  OF  BEING  DEAD.      287 

I  suppose  I  am  not  called  upon  to  say 
more." 

The  tone  was  nonchalant,  almost  defiant, 
but  low  and  even,  and  the  man  did  not  move  a 
muscle  of  face  or  body  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  only  wished  to  inform  you,"  said  the  law- 
yer, "that  any  such  intention,  if  you  have  it, 
must  be  abandoned." 

"May  I  inquire  why?"  There  was  the 
slightest  possible  trace  of  a  sneer,  as  he  added, 
"  If  you  do  not  care  to  introduce  me,  I  can 
find  him  myself.  I  am  in  no  hurry,  and  the 
world  is  not  very  large." 

"  The  man  is  dead." 

"You  said  I  could  see  him?"  incredulously. 

"You  can,"  gravely. 

The  other  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  said  in  a  softened  voice  : 

"  I  am  glad  of  it.  I  thought  I  had  an  ac- 
count to  settle  with  him,  but  perhaps,  instead 
of  a  settlement,  it  would  have  been  just  open- 
ing an  new  one.  I  don't  know  as  I  blame  him 
much,  but  it  was  one  of  those  things  no  man 
can  do  to  a  brother  of  mine,  and  live  long 
after  I  set  eyes  on  him." 

"  So  bad  as  that?"  asked  the  lawyer,  with 
real  concern  in  his  voice. 

"  Don't  ask  me,  sir  ;  it  is  one  of  those  things 
we  cannot  speak  about.  I  would  still  like  to 


288  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

ask  one  question.  If  you  do  not  wish  to  do 
so,  of  course  you  will  not  answer  it.  What 
sort  of  a  man  was  he  ?  " 

"  He  was  a  very  correct  man  in  his  business 
affairs,  and  very  highly  esteemed  by  all  who 
knew  him." 

"  Very  likely.  That  is  not  what  I  mean- 
exactly.  Was  he  what  would  be  termed  a 
gentleman  ?  You  know  what  I  mean." 

"  I  do  not  think  he  was,"  answered  Phelps 
impassively. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,  too,"  emphatically. 

"Yes?     May  I  ask  why?" 

"  Well  one  pities  a  gentleman,  sometimes 
when — well,  there's  a  difference,  you  know." 

"  If  you  would  care  to  read  it — it  might  in- 
terest you — here  is  an  account  of  his  life  writ- 
ten by  himself." 

The  lawyer  picked  up  a  red,  morocco-cov- 
ered book  marked,  "  Cash  Book  "  on  the  back, 
and  broke  the  leaves  over  his  finger  as  he 
spoke. 

"  I  think,  if  you  are  willing,  I  would  like  to 
look  it  over." 

"There  are  some  things  in  it — you  under- 
stand— some  things  that  might  affect  the  hap- 
piness of  others, — innocent  parties.  If  you  are 
willing  to  give  me  your  promise  ?  " 

"You   have  my  word  of  honor,  sir;    not    a 


THE  ADVANTAGE   OF  BEING  DEAD.      289 

hint  of  its  contents  shall  pass  my  lips.  It  shall 
be  as  if  I  had  never  seen  it." 

"You  will  be  less  liable  to  interruption  if 
you  sit  over  there  by  the  window,"  said  Phelps, 
handing  him  the  book. 

Ephraim  Collins  seated  himself  as  directed, 
opened  the  book,  and  read  : 


XXIV. 

A  TRUE  RECORD. 

(i  I"  WRITE  these  pages  in  order  that  the 
i  happiness  of  those  I  love  may  at  no  time 
be  imperilled  by  a  lack  of  knowledge  of  the 
events  of  my  life.  I  shall  leave  the  book  in 
my  counsel's  hands,  with  directions  to  make 
known  its  contents  to  whomsoever  he  may 
deem  it  advisable  to  impart  the  secret  of  my 
life,  and  whensoever  he  believes  its  perusal 
may  result  in  any  good  or  the  prevention  of 
any  evil.  I  have  done  little  enough  of  good  in 
my  life  not  to  desire  to  be  the  unconscious  cause 
of  farther  beneficence  ;  and  I  have  done  enough 
of  evil  to  wish  to  prevent  others  from  doing 
more,  if  I  may. 

"Accident  divided  my  life  into  three  parts, 
apparently  almost  unrelated  to  each  other.  In 
each  case,  this  was  done  without  my  volition, 
though  when  once  effected,  I  did  all  in  my 
power  to  prevent  any  trace  of  my  former 
identity  from  being  discovered.  Aside  from 
this,  mine  has  hardly  been  an  exceptional  ca- 

2QO 


A    TRUE  RECORD.  291 

reer  save  in  one  thing.  During  the  first  period, 
or  until  my  twenty-first  year,  my  life  was  in 
all  respects  more  tolerable  than  the  average 
of  the  class  to  which  I  belonged.  Indeed,  it 
may  be  doubtful  if,  among  the  millions  sus- 
taining the  same  relation,  there  was  a  single 
other  who  enjoyed  like  advantages  and  equal 
opportunities.  I  certainly  never  heard  of  one 
so  highly  favored,  and  to  that  fact,  no  doubt, 
is  traceable  much  that  I  have  enjoyed,  and 
practically  all  that  I  have  suffered,  since  that 
time. 

"  So  far  as  I  am  responsible  for  the  tenor  of 
my  life,  I  have  little  apology  to  make  for  its 
character.  I  have  not  been  a  good  man,  as  the 
world  measures  goodness  at  least,  nor  have  I 
always  wished  to  be  good.  In  a  few  instances, 
I  have  wrought  evil  to  my  fellows  from  a  set 
purpose  to  do  them  harm ;  in  many  more, 
I  have,  I  fear,  done  wrong  through  lack  of 
knowledge  or  careless  disregard  of  what  I 
might  have  learned.  In  some  few  cases,  my 
conduct  has  been  animated  by  revenge,  but 
usually  a  blind,  passionate  desire  for  the  hap- 
piness of  those  I  loved,  has  been  the  con- 
trolling impulse  of  my  life.  As  a  rule,  I  can 
honestly  claim  to  have  done  the  best  I  was 
capable  of  doing  under  the  circumstances.  In 
those  cases  where  it  would  seem  that  I  might 


2p 2  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

have  done  better,  the  impartial  reader  will 
see  that  antecedent  conditions  rendered  it 
well-nigh  impossible  for  me  to  adopt  any  other 
course.  In  addition  to  that  hereditary  bias 
which  colors  to  so  great  a  degree  all  lives,  mine 
has  been  shaped  by  the  operation  of  great 
natural  laws  which  govern  general  conditions 
and  are  as  inflexible  as  the  laws  of  matter. 

"  A  knowledge  of  this  fact  has  taught  me  to 
believe  in  God  and  in  the  wisdom  and  justice 
of  .His  dealings  with  humanity, — not  that  I  can 
clearly  see  them  exemplified  in  my  own  life, 
but  because  I  perceive  that  my  life  must  be 
judged  by  its  relation  to  all  other  lives — past 
and  future — and  the  wisdom  of  its  Author  by 
the  sum  of  all  the  relations  of  all  human  lives. 
I  cannot  apply  such  a  measure.  I  cannot 
judge  of  even  one  life's  worth  or  worthlessness- 
Its  good  and  evil  have  not  fruited,  perhaps 
have  hardly  seeded,  yet.  They  may  touch 
other  lives  yet  unborn  :  so  that  the  works 
by  which  it  must  be  judged  are  yet  largely 
unperformed.  Only  Infinity,  therefore,  can 
rightly  judge  even  the  commonest  human  life. 
Because  of  this  I  have  long  striven  to  abstain 
from  blaming  individuals  for  acts  that  seem  to 
me  unjust.  I  simply  do  not  know  how  much 
of  the  fault  belongs  to  them,  and  how  much  is 
attributable  to  influences  for  which  they  are 


A    TRUE  RECORD.  293 

not  responsible.  I  have  ceased  to  blame  the 
instrument,  and  learned  instead  to  seek  out 
and  hate  the  force  by  which  it  is  impelled. 

"  My  life  has  been  the  prey  of  malign  influ- 
ences which  warped  the  conscience  and  dulled 
the  apprehension  of  a  whole  people,  making 
wrong  seem  right,  and  evil  to  appear  more 
tolerable,  when  done  to  one  man  than  if  done  to 
another.  Those  who  did  these  things  I  have 
forgiven  :  the  forces  which  prompted  or  ex- 
cused their  conduct,  I  can  never  hate  enough. 
Of  the  evil  which  affects  individual  lives,  only 
a  small  portion  springs  from  individual  inclina- 
tion,— is  what  may  properly  be  termed  intended 
wrong.  The  great  bulk  of  it  comes  from, 
habitual  apathy  to  individual  right,  injustice 
inspired  by  greed,  or  ambition,  or  even  the 
misapprehended  teachings  of  religion — until 
peoples  become  crystallized  malignities,  im- 
pelled almost  irresistibly  to  do  evil.  These 
tendencies  it  is  permissible  to  hate  :  these  it  is  a 
duty  to  hate — a  duty  which  each  man  owes  to 
his  fellow  who  is  wronged  thereby,  and  to  God 
whose  beneficence  is  thwarted  by  their  malign 
potency. 

"  Of  the  forces  which  have  thus  balefully 
touched  my  life,  the  chief  is  that  monster  which 
has  been  the  source  of  so  many  woes, — the 
idea  that  God  created  one  human  being  infe- 


294  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

rior  to  another,  and  destined  to  be  forever  sub- 
ordinate and  subservient.  It  is  the  cloak  and 
cover  of  all  enormity, — the  shield  of  oppression, 
and  the  ready  excuse  for  unutterable  infamy. 
The  man  who  believes  in  and  practices  this 
dogma  may  be  all  that  is  good  and  pure,  or  he 
may  be  a  leper  unconscious  of  his  own  foul- 
ness. The  society — the  people  affected  by  it, 
become  inevitably  degraded.  Things  done  at 
its  behest  seem  pure  in  their  eyes,  which  done 
from  any  other  motive  would  seem  inexpressi- 
bly vile.  It  becomes  an  excuse  for  all  crime 
and  an  unresting  impulse  toward  fresh  injustice. 
A  community  which  has  once  yielded  to  its 
sway  can  never  halt  in  the  path  of  oppression 
until  it  reaches  the  climax  of  evil,  or  some 
stronger  force  compels  it  to  turn  backward. 
It  drives,  with  relentless  malignity,  the  patri- 
archal slavery  of  the  early  days  on  into  the 
leprous  foulness,  the  inexpressible  infamy  of  its 
closing  years.  Beginning  to  act  in  the  same 
direction,  as  soon  as  the  restraining  force  was 
removed,  it  is  now  urging  the  same  peoples 
who  were  affected  by  its  power,  on  toward 
another  gulf  of  horror  equally  wide  and  deep, 
which  yawns  before  oppressor  and  oppressed 
alike.  Wisdom  cannot  be  grafted  on  the 
stock  of  slavery:  justice  cannot  be  estab- 


A    TRUE  RECORD.  295 

lished  without    denunciation   and  disapproval 
of  the  wrong. 

"  The  American  people  have  not  yet  learned 
this  lesson.  It  is  not  certain  that  they  ever 
will.  They  desire  credit  for  having  eradicated 
evil;  but  are  unwilling  to  discountenance  the 
impulse  from  which  it  sprung.  They  abolished 
slavery,  but  in  the  same  breath  said  to  those 
who  had  drenched  a  continent  in  blood  in  sup- 
port of  its  infamies,  in  effect:  'Though  you 
shall  no  longer  enslave  this  race  who  have  been 
your  bondsmen,  yet,  in  consideration  of  the 
habit  of  domination  which  has  become  an 
established  part  of  your  nature,  we  will  not 
give  them  any  efficient  safeguard  against  vio- 
lence or  rapacity,  and  whatsoever  other  evil, 
short  of  legalized  bondage,  you  may  see  fit  to 
impose  on  them,  that  you  are  at  liberty  to 
perpetrate.  We  will  not  listen  to  their  cries ; 
we  will  not  defend  their  rights  ;  we  will  not 
redress  their  wrongs ! ' 

"So  the  stock  of  slavery, — the  underlying 
principle  of  the  essential  inferiority  of  a  race, 
— being  freely  watered  with  the  blood  of  free- 
men, is  sending  up  new  and  more  vigorous 
shoots,  which  are  already  yielding  fruits  hardly 
inferior  in  acrid  horror  to  those  which  hung 
upon  the  tree  which  was  cut  down  with  such 
a  show  of  earnest  purpose  to  destroy. 


296  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"The  other  force  which  is  most  responsible 
for  the  conditions  which  have  affected  not  only 
my  life,  but  millions  of  others,  is  that  religious 
sentiment  which  was  at  once  the  servant  and 
defender  of  the  other, — the  worship  of  a  deity 
which  is  said  to  permit,  ordain  and  decree  the 
essential  inferiority  of  one  part  of  humanity  to 
another,  and  to  sanction  and  approve  the  sub- 
ordination of  the  interests,  rights  and  privi- 
leges of  one  section  of  His  believers,  to  the 
pleasure,  greed  and  prejudice  of  another — a 
religion  which  at  one  time  openly,  and  at 
another  tacitly,  maintains  that  the  right  of 
one  class  of  believers — one  type  of  human 
beings,  is  essentially  inferior  to  the  privilege  of 
another.  It  has  made  the  Christ  the  defender 
of  caste — the  tutelary  head  of  a  religion  which 
has  one  measure  of  right,  of  privilege  and 
opportunity  for  a  white  man  or  a  white  woman, 
and  another  standard  of  right  and  privilege  for 
a  colored  man  or  woman.  This  religion  excuses 
the  white  man's  license  and  suppresses  the 
colored  man's  complaint.  For  every  wrong 
done  the  colored  man,  it  finds  some  palliation  ; 
for  the  evil  he  suffers,  it  urges  only  patient 
endurance  and  offers  no  hope  of  remedy  this 
side  the  grave.  It  is  a  religion  of  injustice  and 
inequality.  Its  mission  is  to  find  excuse  for 
wrong,  rather  than  a  remedy  for  evil.  It  admin- 


A    TRUE  RECORD.  297 

isters  soporifics  rather  than  purgatives,  to  the 
troubled  conscience. 

"  I  do  not  mean  by  this  to  assail  Christianity. 
I  know  little  about  it  except  in  the  abstract, 
for  my  own  ideas  have  become  so  warped  that 
I  can  hardly  imagine  a  church  which  has  not 
one  door  for  black  and  another  for  white 
believers,  or  in  which  one  of  the  inducements 
to  the  colored  believer  is  not  that  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  he  shall  be  accounted  white,  or 
at  least,  as  good  as  a  white  man.  I  could  not 
worship  such  a  deity.  I  would  rather  suffer 
eternal  torture  than  accept  a  God  who  would 
measure  one  man's  right  by  the  yard  and 
another's  by  the  barleycorn,  or  accord  to  one 
license  to  do  evil  because  he  is  white,  and 
impose  on  another  intolerable  wrong  because 
he  is  black  ! 

"  Yet  I  believe  in  the  Carpenter's  Son  of 
Nazareth — the  Christ  who  came  to -bless  and 
cure — to  whom  all  men  are  alike,  who  did  not' 
wink  at  the  sins  of  the  rich  nor  magnify  the 
errors  of  the  weak.  His  teachings  I  revere  as 
God's  ideal  of  the  relation  which  should  sub- 
sist between  man  and  man,  both  individually 
and  collectively.  The  'white'  Christ  is  man's 
distortion  of  that  ideal.  Yet  I  believe  the 
'  white  '  Christ  will  continue  to  dominate  the 
Christian  thought,  and  consequently  to  mould 


298  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

the  public  sentiment,  of  this  country — perhaps 
of  the  world,  for  ages,  perhaps  forever.  Thus 
far,  no  free  colored  race  has  accepted  the  relig- 
ion of  the  white  Christ  except  to  insure  its 
own  destruction.  The  Sandwich  Islanders  em- 
braced it,  and  were  destroyed.  In  Africa,  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  the  United  States, — 
everywhere  it  has  been  the  accompaniment  of 
bondage,  or  the  precursor  of  destruction,  to 
the  colored  man.  It  is  a  cult  that  believes 
in  '  dead  Indians,'  and  subject  Negroes.  It 
sends  missionaries  to  proclaim  salvation  to  the 
heathen,  but  never  thinks  of  offering  justice 
to  him  while  he  remains  on  earth. 

"  These  two  forces  have  made  my  life  what  it 
has  been.  I  do  not  mean  to  complain.  Perhaps, 
when  the  Divine  test  is  applied,  it  will  be  found 
that  the  general  welfare  of  humanity  demanded 
that  I  should  know  and  feel  these  very  things, — 
that  my  life  has  been  as  easy  and  as  sweet  as 
Divine  justice  could  make  it,  consistently  with 
the  tenor  of  the  lives  that  went  before  it,  and 
the  good  of  those  that  are  to  come  after  it. 

"  I  have,  no  doubt,  often  misconceived  my 
duty,  and  may  have  wholly  failed  to  correctly 
interpret  my  environment  or  to  comprehend 
the  duties  and  obligations  it  imposed:  I  shall 
relate  the  story  of  my  life,  not  to  excuse  or 
justify  myself.  Whether  I  have  acted  rightly 


A    TRUE  RECORD.  299 

or  wrongly,  will  be  of  little  consequence  to  any 
who  may  read  this  record.  A  knowledge  of 
the  influences  that  inclined  me  to  do  well  or 
ill,  may  possibly  help  some  other  soul  to  avoid 
my  errors  and  improve  upon  my  successes.  I 
desire  to  bind  no  one  to  my  conclusions,  but 
leave  each  to  draw  what  lesson  he  may  from  the 
story  of  a  life  remarkable  only  for  its  diffi- 
culties and  disappointments, — to  determine 
whether  I  rightly  or  wrongly  interpreted  that 
riddle  of  Yesterday  which  To-morrow  forever 
guesses  better  than  To-day. 


"  MY   FIRST. 

"  At  my  birth  I  was  named  Pac — nothing 
more.  I  was  not  christened  :  the  law  did  not 
permit  it.  In  truth,  there  was  no  need  ;  god- 
parents were  an  absurdity  to  one  having  a 
master.  When  one  day  old,  I  was  regarded  as 
of  the  value  of  one  hundred  dollars  in  current 
funds.  From  this,  I  infer  that  I  was  a  healthy 
and  well-developed  infant.  I  was  the  fifth 
child  of  my  mother,  who  was  yet  a  young 
woman  when  I  was  born.  She  had  no  hus- 
band ;  the  law  forbade  the  marriage  of  such  as 
she.  She  was  a  comely  woman,  which  was  no 
doubt  the  reason  she  found  favor  in  my  mas- 
ter's eyes.  I  do  not  remember  that  there  was 
any  trace  of  African  blood  in  her  appearance. 
Her  children  all  had  a  striking  resemblance — 
to  my  master.  She  herself  had  also  a  strong 
resemblance  to  the  females  of  my  master's 
family.  She  was  a  very  capable  woman  and 
tender-hearted.  She  sometimes  feared  her 
children. might  be  taken  from  her,  but  our  mas- 
ter soothed  her  with  promise^.  That  she  was 
a  profitable  servant  is  apparent  from  the  fact 
300 


MY  FIRST.  301 

that,  '  Eudice,  aged  thirty,  with  seven  chil- 
dren,' was  entered  as,  '  Lot  No.  10,'  on  the 
administrator's  schedule  after  my  father  died, 
and  assessed,  for  the  purpose  of  distribution 
among  the  heirs, — the  Collinses  did  not  sell 
slaves,  though  they  sometimes  bought  them, — 
at  the  sum  of  $5400 — a  very  moderate  price, 
as  I  have  been  assured  by  those  familiar  with 
the  market  rates,  at  that  time.  She  was  de- 
scribed as  having  "  very  light  hair  and  eyes, 
medium  size,  healthy,  still  in  her  prime — a 
choice  lot. 

"  I  was  then  six  years  old.  As  I  remember 
her,  my  mother  fully  justified  this  description, 
which  I  happened  to  find  attached  to  the  Ad- 
ministrator's Returns  among  the  records  of  the 
County  Court  many  years  afterwards.  I  think 
she  was  as  good  as — as  most  women  would 
have  been  with  her  environment.  She  loved 
my  father,  and  he  was  undoubtedly  fond  of 
her.  The  latter  fact  was  of  advantage  in  ame- 
liorating the  conditions  of  her  life.  Otherwise, 
it  was  of  little  moment.  If  it  had  not  been 
McQueen  Collins,  it  would  have  been  some 
other  man  of  the  same  class.  Such  women  as 
my  mother  had  no  other  prospect  before  them. 
That  she  was  entirely  satisfied  with  her  condi- 
tion is  hardly  probable  ;  that  she  was  greatly 
disturbed  by  it,  I  think  altogether  improbable. 


302  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

She  held  the  highest  rank  one  of  her  class 
could  aspire  to ;  and  was  greatly  esteemed  by 
the  whole  of  my  master's  family,  some  of  whose 
white  children  she  had  nursed  along  with  her 
own. 

"  My  father  was  a  man  highly  esteemed  by 
all  who  knew  him,  and  not  without  public  dis- 
tinction. His  family  was  an  old  and  honorable 
one.  They  owned  great  estates,  and  had  always 
been  successful  in  business  affairs.  He  was  a 
member  of  Congress,  and  I  have  heard  that  I 
was  born  here  in  Washington.  He  was  of 
strict  religious  habits  ;  and  upon  the  whole  a 
very  good  man,  and  I  have  reason  to  believe, 
an  excellent  master.  My  mother  mourned 
very  deeply  at  his  death,  partly  no  doubt  from 
sorrow  and  partly  from  apprehension  as  to  her 
own  future  and  the  fate  of  her  children.  In 
the  settlement  of  the  estate,  she  fell  to  one  of 
the  daughters,  and  was  taken  to  another  State. 
I  have  heard  that  her  new  master  was  very 
kind  to  her.  She  had  several  children  to  take 
the  place  of  those  she  lost.  Those  born  during 
my  master's  life  were  scattered  here  and  there 
among  the  heirs.  I  fell  to  Marse  '  Bug,'  and 
remained  at  the  home  plantation.  I  saw  most 
of  the  others  after  emancipation,  but  did  not 
reveal  my  identity  to  them.  It  was  useless  to 
do  so :  I  could  not  do  them  any  good.  I  have 


MY  FIRST.  303 

helped  some  of  their  children — to  become  white, 
I  hope  their  children  will  be  able  to  forget  their 
origin.  The  one  fortunate  thing  about  slavery 
was  that  it  left  no  family  tree  to  blight  with 
the  shade  of  its  dead  branches  the  new  shoots. 

"  Marse  '  Bug,'  was  very  kind  to  me.  He 
was  younger  by  three  years,  and  I  had  been 
his  '  boy  '  ever  since  he  was  born.  He  was  an 
easy,  good-natured  fellow,  who  liked  a  good 
time  better  than  his  books.  His  mother  had 
me  taught  the  same  lessons  in  order  to  stimu- 
late him.  I  did  not  like  the  tasks  any  better 
than  he.  Being  so  nearly  of  an  age,  we  grew 
up  very  much  like  brothers.  There  was,  in- 
deed, so  striking  a  resemblance  between  us 
that  the  most  casual  observer  could  not  fail  to 
notice  it,  and  we  were  sometimes  mistaken  for 
each  other.  As  we  grew  older,  I  still  shared 
his  lessons  and  his  sports, — not  unfrequently 
his  dissipations,  also. 

"  Of  course  the  difference  in  our  positions 
galled  me  some,  but  I  do  not  think  I  minded 
it  much  until  I  fell  in  love.  I  had  the  thrifty 
habit  of  the  family,  and  had  already  accumu- 
lated quite  a  little  stock  of  coin,  which  I  had 
hidden  in  a  safe  place, — not  with  any  idea  of 
ever  having  a  use  for  it,  but  from  the  mere 
instinct  of  acquiring  and  hiding.  Just  before 
the  war,  I  became  acquainted — I  may  as  well 


304  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

say,  infatuated — with  a  girl  living  on  a  neigh- 
boring plantation.  Her  name  was  Mazy, — 
that's  what  they  called  her,  at  least.  Her 
mother  had  belonged  to  the  Mays  in  her  young 
days,  which  was  probably  the  reason  for  the 
name.  Slavery  made  some  queer  derivatives. 
Marse  '  Bug '  was  christened  Junius  ;  but 
Junius  became  'June-bug/  in  the  '  quarters/ 
and  finally  mere  '  Bug,'  for  convenience.  Of 
course,  it  was  not  long  before  Marse  Bug  knew 
about  my  love  affair.  We  were  just  back  from 
college,  where  I  not  only  waited  on  him,  but 
had  studied  his  lessons  with  him  too,  when  the 
whim  seized  him  to  have  me  do  so;  as  it  very 
often  did.  He  had  a  notion  that  it  helped 
him  to  master  his  tasks  if  he  required  me  to 
memorize  them  first  and  then  repeat  them  to 
him  by  rote.  I  had  a  sort  of  pride  in  it,  too, 
though  I  took  no  real  interest  in  study.  Why 
should  I  ?  Of  what  value  was  knowledge  to 
the  slave? 

"  I  was  fond  of  reading,  however,  and  read 
everything  I  could  lay  my  hands  on.  It  was 
against  the  law  to  teach  a  slave,  but  Marse  Bug 
was  very  proud  of  his  'educated  nigger,'  as  he 
called  me,  much  as  if  I  had  been  a  trick  dog  or 
a  'learned  pig.'  When  he  first  began  to  study 
Latin,  he  had  named — or  rather  nicknamed — 
me,  Pactolus.  Perhaps  that  was  what  the 


MY  FIRST.  305 

original  '  Pac,'  was  intended  for.  One  night 
some  of  his  cronies  at  the  University  were  hav- 
ing a  carouse,  and  I  was  called  upon  to  show 
off  my  acquirements.  One  of  them,  swearing 
I  was  the  first  'nigger'  student  who  had  ever 
been  at  the  institution,  proposed  that  I  be 
dubbed  Pactolus,  Prime,  and  required  to  cele- 
brate the  event  by  drinking  an  immense  bowl 
of  punch,  and  performing  sundry  other  antics 
for  their  entertainment.  They  set  out  to  cele- 
brate my  'matriculation,'  as  they  termed  it,  by 
a  roaring  debauch,  in  which  I  was  made  to 
share  for  their  amusement.  I  may  as  well  con- 
fess that  I  did  so  not  at  all  unwillingly. 

"The  programme  was  carried  out  to  the 
letter,  and  I  was  rolled  under  the  bed  drunk 
by  our  drunken  guests,  and  my  master  put  in 
the  bed  also  drunk.  So  they  thought  at  least. 
In  the  morning  I  found  myself  in  the  bed,  and 
Marse  Bug  under  it.  The  matter  got  out,  and 
he  was  sent  home  in  disgrace  for  the  rest  of 
the  year.  We  never  returned.  It  was  during 
this  period  of  rustication  that  I  met  my  Mazy. 

"  I  went  to  see  my  sweetheart  at  every 
opportunity  ;  but  I  was  startled  enough  when 
I  learned  that  '  Miss  Mary ' — that  was  Marse 
Bug's  mother — had  bought  her  in  order,  so  he 
told  me,  that  I  '  needn't  have  to  be  away  from 
home  so  much.'  From  that  time  I  was  jealous 


3°6  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

of  my  master.  Then  the  war  came  on  and  he 
went  into  the  service.  I  went  with  him.  He 
was  not  often  at  home,  and  always  left  me  in 
the  camp  when  he  went. 

"  One  day  along  in  the  second  year  of  the 
war,  he  told  me  to  take  his  things  down  into 
the  city,  near  which  we  were  in  camp.  When 
I  did  so,  he  went  to  the  station,  and  told  me 
he  had  got  leave  to  stay  in  town  for  a  week, 
but  was  going  home,  instead.  I  was  to  remain 
in  the  city  until  his  return.  Instead  of  obey- 
ing, I  took  the  next  train  and  followed  him. 
I  had  no  difficulty  about  getting  a  pass,  having 
forged  a  letter  to  the  Commander  of  the  Post, 
from  Marse  Bug,  asking  leave  for  his  servant 
to  go  home  and  bring  on  some  '  supplies.'  I 
was  hardly  six  hours  behind  my  master.  It 
was  night  when  I  arrived.  The  house  was 
brilliantly  illuminated  in  honor  of  his  return. 
I  approached  through  the  garden,  passing 
under  a  long  arbor.  It  was  the  place  where  I 
had  been  accustomed  to  meet  my  sweetheart, 
and  my  mind  was  full  of  her  as  I  stood  in  the 
flower-scented  shadow  of  the  vine.  Passing 
through  I  saw,  in  the  moonlight  at  the  end, 
the  subject  of  my  thought, — in  my  master's 
arms  !  To  wrench  off  a  piece  of  the  railing  and 
deal  him  a  blow  that  came  near  being  fatal, 
was  the  work  of  an  instant.  I  supposed  him 


MY  FIRST.  307 

dead,  and  have  always  regretted  that  the 
stroke  was  not  mortal.  I  suppose  God  knows 
why  he  was  permitted  to  live  ;  I  do  not.  The 
girl  fled  without  a  word.  I  took  a  horse  from 
the  stables  ;  dug  up  my  little  store  of  money, 
and  three  days  after  was  in  the  Federal  lines. 

"  Thus  ended  the  first  chapter  of  the  story  of 
my  life.  Henceforth,  I  was  to  be  not  myself, 
but  another. 


"  MY   SECOND." 

"  My  second  life  began  when  the  first  ended.. 
I  was  mistaken  for  a  white  man  by  the  picket 
which  captured  and  marched  me  into  the 
Federal  camp.  It  was  not  strange  that  they 
should  err  in  this  respect :  I  was  fairly  well- 
dressed,  and  the  regiment  whose  lines  I  en- 
tered was  made  up  of  Northern  men,  who  were 
unfamiliar  with  the  peculiar  earmarks  of  bond- 
age. Very  naturally,  I  had  not  so  many  of 
these  distinguishing  features  as  some  of  my 
fellows.  I  was  suspected  of  being  a  spy,  and 
was  taken  before  the  Colonel.  He  was  a  man 
of  middle  age;  a  lawyer,  keen,  observant,  and 
not  so  trammeled  with  regard  for  orders  and 
regulations  as  if  his  life  had  been  purely  mili- 
tary. I  invented  a  story  to  comport  with  the 
mistake  my  captors  had  made,  and  this  was 
repeated  by  the  sergeant  who  took  me  to  the 
commanding  officer.  I  had  assumed  the  role 
of  a  Union  man  fleeing  from  the  Confederate 
conscription.  It  was  a  common  enough  ex- 
perience, and  I  had  no  idea  I  would  be  tripped 
in  the  story  I  meant  to  tell.  The  Colonel 
308 


MY  SECO.VD.  309 

scanned    me    closely,  and    then    began  to  ask 
questions.     After  a  time  we  were  left  alone. 

"'Pac,'said  the  Colonel,  in  a  sharp,  low  tone, 

"  I  sprang  to  my  feet  in  an  instant, — I  had 
been  sitting  on  a  camp-stool — and  before  I 
knew  it,  had  dropped  my  hat  and  answered, 
'  Sah  ! ' 

" '  I  thought  so,'  said  the  Colonel  with  a 
smile.  'Sit  down.' 

"  He  then  showed  me  a  newspaper  one  of 
his  scouts  had  brought  in,  which  gave  a  full 
account  of  my  assault  upon  my  master.  He 
questioned  me  about  it. 

"  I  told  him  the  whole  truth.  He  closed  the 
tent-flap,  and  informed  the  sentry  that  he  was 
not  to  be  disturbed  for  a  little  while. 

" '  I  am  required,'  he  said,  '  by  general 
orders  not  to  harbor  runaways.  To  put  you 
outside  of  my  lines  would  be  to  return  a  man 
to  slavery  who  is  as  white  as  I  am  ;  and  also 
to  condemn  you  to  death  for  an  act  which 
all  civilized  codes  justify.  By  God !  I  will 
not  do  it !  ' 

"He  walked  across  the  tent  once  or  twice- 
and  then  continued  : 

"  '  Of  course,  you  cannot  stay  here  as  a  Negro. 
You  have  come  in  as  a  white  man,  why  not 
remain  one  ?  ' 

"  To  this  proposition  I  made  no  objection. 


31°  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  '  See  here,'  said  he  after  a  moment's 
thought  :  '  Why  not  enlist  and  become  one 
of  my  scouts  ?  You  know  this  region  and 
ought  to  be  of  service  to  us.' 

"  I  told  him  then  about  a  lot  of  Confed- 
erate stores  I  had  seen  but  slightly  guarded 
at  a  neighboring  railway  station,  on  my  way 
home. 

"  '  That's  just  the  thing,'  said  he.  '  You 
can  enlist ;  I  will  give  out  that  you  have 
brought  valuable  information,  and  we  will 
move  from  here  to-morrow.' 

"  Twenty  minutes  afterwards  I  had  donned 
the  uniform  of  a  Federal  soldier.  Thereafter, 
for  half  a  dozen  years,  I  was  to  be  known  only 
as  P.  P.  Smith.  We  marched  at  daylight :  my 
information  proved  correct,  and  the  movement 
added  another  to  the  well-earned  feathers  in 
the  cap  of  our  Colonel.  He  was  breveted  a 
Brigadier;  I  was  appointed  a  Sergeant.  A 
year  afterwards,  I  was  promoted  to  a  Lieuten- 
ancy in  a  colored  regiment  on  his  recommen- 
dation. A  short  time  after  this,  he  was  killed 
•  in  battle.  I  was  then  the  only  one  who  knew 
the  secret  of  my  first  life. 

"  After  the  close  of  the  war,  my  regiment 
was  ordered  on  duty  near  my  old  home.  No 
one  recognized  me.  A  uniform  and  shoulder- 
straps  made  an  impenetrable  disguise,  especially 


MY  SECOND.  311 

as  the  slave-boy's  face  had   been  bare,  and  the 
lieutenant's  was  bearded. 

"  My  infatuation  revived  at  sight  of  my 
former  sweetheart.  She  had  a  child,  now.  I 
made  myself  known  to  her, — with  no  honorable 
intentions,  I  will  admit.  The  story  she  told 
melted  my  heart.  She  had  been  deceived  by 
my  master,  who  sent  her  to  the  arbor  to  meet 
me,  and  had  caught  her  in  his  arms  before 
she  knew  who  it  was.  So  she  said,  at  least  ;  I 
do  not  know  whether  she  spoke  truly,  or  not : 
and  it  is  of  no  consequence  now.  That  she 
afterwards  yielded  to  his  desires,  was  hardly 
to  be  counted  to  her  discredit :  the  law  did 
not  excuse  disobedience  nor  justify  resistance. 
She  bore  marks  of  the  lash  that  seemed  to 
attest  her  faithfulness.  It  is  a  short  story:  I 
supplied  her  with  funds :  she  came  North, 
when  my  regiment  was  mustered  out,  and  we 
were  married. 

"  I  bought  a  plantation  in  South  Carolina 
and  removed  there.  I  prospered,  as  a  Collins 
always  does.  Saying  nothing  about  our  racial 
affinities,  we  were  accepted  as  white.  Why* 
should  we  not  have  been  ?  An  expert  could 
not  have  detected  a  trace  of  color  in  either; 
though  he  might  have  found  traces  of  servile 
condition,  no  doubt,  in  both.  One  who  has 
been  a  slave  can  never  be  made  wholly  free. 


312  PACTOLUS  PRIMED 

Liberty  is   a   growth — an    evolution — not   an 
instantaneous  fact. 

"  I  tried  to  do  my  duty  as  a  citizen,  and  took 
an  active  part  in  the  political  events  of  the 
time ;  but  my  plantation,  my  business,  was  my 
delight.  Both  my  politics  and  my  prosperity, 
however,  made  me  enemies.  Returning  from 
the  city  one  night,  I  was  shot  and  left  for  dead 
upon  the  highway.  A  woman  found  me — one 
of  those  curious  types  of  the  colored  race,  in 
which  it  seems  as  if  something  of  the  savage 
still  exists,  and  impels  them  to  live  alone.  Tall, 
straight  as  an  arrow,  the  brown  of  her  cheek 
had  been  changed  to  bronze  by  race  admix- 
ture. Her  name  was  Martha:  if  she  had  any 
other,  I  never  knew  it.  Her  hair  was  long  and 
snow-white,  though  she  could  hardly  have  been 
more  than  thirty.  She  would  never  talk  about 
herself,  and  grew  moody  and  savage  if  ques- 
tioned. Some  uncontrollable  frenzy  had  sent 
her  to  the  swamps  when  hardly  grown.  The 
war  was  in  progress  then  :  between  the  lines  of 
the  two  armies  she  was  safe,  but  always  on  the 
alert  for  danger.  It  was  not  difficult  to  live 
under  the  circumstances  ;  but  the  life  was  that 
of  a  savage.  After  peace  came,  she  built  a  hut 
on  the  edge  of  the  swamp.  She  worked  some- 
times, but  not  regularly.  The  colored  people 
regarded  her  with  fear,  as  a  conjurer  ;  the  whites 


SECOND.  313 

with  suspicion,  as  a  pilferer.  She  took  me  to 
her  hut  and  brought  a  physician.  It  was  a  long 
while  before  I  recovered  :  when  I  did  it  was  to 
find  myself  a  cripple.  Worse  than  that,  my  hair 
had  fallen  out,  and  my  skin  had  become — what 
it  is  now.  The  doctor  said  it  was  the  effect  of 
the  remedies  he  had  used. 

"  I  hardly  cared  :  perhaps  I  was  even  glad  to 
be  thus  disguised.  When  I  asked  about  my 
family,  both  the  doctor  and  the  woman  main- 
tained a  discreet  silence.  Finally,  I  was  well 
enough  to  return  to  my  home.  Arriving  at 
the  gate,  I  saw  my  sometime  master  sitting  on 
the  porch.  He  ordered  me  off  the  lot,  and 
would  have  set  the  dogs  upon  me  but  they  re- 
fused to  obey  him.  My  wife  stood  looking  on. 
My  little  daughter  clambered  down  the  steps 
and  came  wonderingly  up  to  me.  As  I  stood 
there  fondling  her  cheek,  I  determined  on  my 
plan.  I  returned  to  the  hut  and  took  the 
woman  into  my  confidence,  Fortunately,  I 
had  a  considerable  sum  of  money  about  me 
when  I  was  shot.  I  had  wondered  why  it  had 
not  been  taken.  As  soon  as  I  saw  my  old 
master,  I  knew  who  had  been  my  assailant,  and 
why.  I  did  not  question  my  wife's  guilt,  and 
cannot  understand  why  I  did  not  kill  them 
both.  Instead  of  that,  I  stole  my  child  from 
her  room,  and  left  my  knife  sticking  in  the 


3*4  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

head-board  of  the  bed.     If  she  had  awakened, 
I  should  have  driven  it  to  her  heart. 

"  The  woman  took  the  child  to  the  city, 
where  she  had  already  rented  a  lodging.  I 
went  to  her  old  haunt  in  the  swamp.  There 
was  not  much  search  for  the  child — at  least,  I 
did  not  hear  of  much.  When  I  went  back  to  my 
plantation  again,  my  old  master  was  living  alone 
in  a  new  house  he  had  built  in  the  yard.  I 
thought  I  knew  the  reason  of  the  change.  Per- 
haps I  was  wrong.  I  never  saw  him  afterward. 

"  I  returned  to  the  city,  and  remained  for  a 
time  with  the  woman  who  had  nursed  me.  She 
was  very  fond  of  mo,  and  as  faithful  as  a  hound, 
but  could  not  bear  restraint.  She  wanted  to 
go  back  to  the  swamps.  I  think  she  resented 
my  misfortune  even  more  bitterly  than  I.  I  con- 
cluded to  give  up  the  struggle  to  be  white  and 
respectable,  return  with  her  and  take  on  the 
role  of  a  lame,  vagabond  '  nigger,'  for  the  rest 
of  my  life.  On  mentioning  my  design  to  her, 
I  was  surprised  to  meet  objection.  She  said  I 
must  take  the  child  and  go  away.  She  had  all 
along  been  apprehensive  in  regard  to  my  safety. 
She  refused  to  accompany  me,  preferring  to 
look  out  for  herself.  I  think  she  felt  a  sense 
of  inferiority,  that  made  my  presence  irksome. 
I  divided  the  money  I  had  left  with  her,  and 
came  onto  Washington  with  my  child.  I  have 


MY  SECOND.  315 

never  heard  of  her  since.  She  was  a  true  friend : 
I  mean  to  go  back  and  find  her,  if  the  "plan  I 
have  in  mind  succeeds.  Somehow,  I  do  not 
feel  that  I  have  treated  her  exactly  right.  I 
am  sure  she  has  watched  and  waited  for  me, 
and  I  should  like  to  see  her  once  more.  Who 
knows  but  I  may  yet  end  my  life  as  a  crippled 
nigger? 


"  MY   THIRD. 

"  With  my  arrival  in  Washington,  commences 
the  third  period  of  my  life.  I  began  work  as  a 
boot-black,  calling  myself  Prime,  and  afterward 
Pactolus  Prime,  my  old  slave  nickname.  When 
I  got  a  little  ahead  and  wanted  to  do  business, 
I  used  the  name  P.  P.  Smith,  whose  agent  I 
professed  to  be.  I  have  so  carefully  kept  the 
secret  of  my  identity,  that  I  think  no  one  but 
my  counsel  suspects  that  the  well-known  dealer 
in  real  estate  is  none  other  than  the  boot-black 
of  the  Best  House. 

"  I  fully  intended  to  return  some  time  and 
kill  the  man  who  had  robbed  me  of  so  much, 
and  I  do  not  know  why  I  did  not,  unless  it  was 
that  my  love  for  my  daughter  prevented.  I 
did  not  want  to  leave  her  alone.  It  disarmed 
me  curiously,  too,  when  I  thought  of  my  wife. 
I  do  not  think  I  hated  her  as  one  would  sup- 
pose. Her  falsehood  overwhelmed  me.  I  did 
not  know  the  extent  of  her  guilt.  I  did  not 
wish  to  know  it.  I  hoped  always  that  she  might 
not  have  yielded  until  she  thought  me  dead — 
that  she  might  not  have  yielded  at  all. 
316 


MY  THIRD.  317 

"  It  was  foolish  no  doubt,  but  while  I  waited 
and  tried  to  think  what  I  would  do — what  form 
my  vengeance  should  take, — somehow  I  lost  the 
desire.  I  became  interested  in  little  business 
ventures,  growing  constantly  larger  and  almost 
always  successful.  I  bought  the  neglected 
place  I  had  rented.  It  was  almost  hidden  by 
weeds.  I  gave  up  the  front-yard  to  them  and 
encouraged  them  to  grow.  Sorel  and  briers 
and  mulleins  and  burdocks  and  thistles, — it  did 
me  good  to  see  them  usurp  the  whole  premises — 
all  but  a  little  path  at  one  side  next  the  thick, 
thorny  osage-orange  hedge.  I  was  told  that 
a  crazy  poet  owned  it  once,  and  liked  the  weeds 
to  swarm  about  his  den.  It  suited  my  mood 
too,  and  as  there  was  no  change,  the  neighbors 
troubled  themselves  little  about  the  black  crip- 
pled misanthrope  who  occupied  it. 

"  But  within  I  had  my  jewel,  the  daughter, — 
my  old  master's  daughter,  I  told  every  one,— 
whose  face  grew  fairer  and  dearer  until  I  hardly 
thought  of  anything  else  on  earth.  All  I  did 
or  ventured  was  for  her.  I  furnished  the  inte- 
rior of  the  old  stone  house  over  which  the  wood- 
bine clambered  and  around  which  the  weeds 
flourished,  until  those  who  pitied  me  would 
have  wondered  had  they  known  how  bright  it 
was  within. 

"  Those  were  happy  days — by  far  the  hap- 


318  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

piest  of  my  life.  All  the  love  I  had  given  to 
the  mother,  I  gave  now  to  %the  daughter,  and 
more.  Because  I  loved  her  so,  I  forgave  the 
mother, — tried  to  think  of  her  as  dead,  and 
blessed  her  for  this  fair  flower.  It  was  very 
foolish,  but  one  shut  off  from  other  men's  lives 
and  hopes, — doubly  branded — must  have  his 
own  life.  I  had  mine. 

"  We  lived  alone.  .  The  years  went  by  so 
swiftly  that  I  hardly  noted  them — so  sweetly 
that  I  have  never  numbered  them.  It  was  one 
long  bright  day.  I  was  her  '  Uncle  Pac,' — the 
one  being  she  knew  and  loved.  I  had  enough  ; 
so  we  lacked  for  nothing.  Every  evening  I 
spent  with  her :  and  everything  I  touched 
prospered.  I  almost  forgot  that  I  had  ever 
been  anything  else,  and  wondered  often  what 
those  who  pitied  my  condition  would  have 
thought,  if  they  had  really  known  what  it  was. 

"  But  the  sweet  dream  could  not  last  forever. 
I  awoke  from  it  to  find  that  the  child  was  grow- 
ing up  to  womanhood,  and'the  followers  of  the 
white  Christ  were  seeking  to  take  her  from  me. 
What  had  such  an  old  '  nigger'  to  do  with  so 
fair  a  flower?  People  began  to  talk  solicitously 
about  her;  very  shamefully  about  me.  Her 
teachers  were  especially  interested  in  her.  They 
did  not  exactly  propose  to  take  her  from  me, 
but  I  knew  what  was  coming, — separation  or 


MY  THIRD.  319 

shame.  I  must  decide  between  shame  for  her, 
and  sorrow  for  myself.  I  could  not  hesitate, — 
but  took  her  to  the  good  Sisters, — as  far  away 
as  I  could  from  myself  and  my  surroundings. 
She  knew  nothing  of  my  business  or  my  occupa- 
tion. To  her  I  have  been  only  her  father's  old 
servant. 

"  Hardly  had  she  gone,  when  I  began  to 
plan  for  her  return.  When  I  found  Benny  was 
in  the  city,  I  was  for  a  time  in  fear  that  my 
wife  would  find  out  my  secret,  and  profane  it 
with  the  claim  of  sharing  my  success  and  my 
love.  I  asked  no  questions,  fearing  to  risk 
even  my  unnatural  mask.  It  was  not  so  much 
from  dislike  or  distrust  of  her,  as  from  jealousy; 
I  did  not  want  to  share  my  child — her  love, 
her  happiness,  with  the  mother. 

"  My  wife, — I  did  not  love  her  any  more. 
Come  to  look  back  upon  it,  I  doubt  if  I  ever 
have  loved  her  since  I  saw  her  in  my  master's 
embrace.  But  she  was  fair  and  I  was  ambi- 
tious. I  wanted  to  make  her  rich — to  gratify  all 
her  desires,  and  have  her  thank  me  for  all  she 
enjoyed.  Now,  my  ambition  had  taken  a  new 
direction.  I  wanted  to  see  my  daughter  rich, 
accomplished,  and  without  suspicion  of  her  true 
lineage.  To  my  mind  the  mother  was  the  daugh- 
ter's enemy.  I  took  Benny  into  my  employ, 
simply  that  I  might  keep  track  of  this  enemy. 


320  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  I  have  succeeded.  My  child  will  soon  re- 
turn :  she  will  live  in  her  own  house.  I  will 
go  back  to  my  weed-hidden  snuggery.  Benny 
will  go  away, — I  will  make  it  an  object  for  him 
to  do  so  ;  or  better  yet,  he  shall  have  my  busi- 
nesss,  and  /  will  go  away.  He  foolishly  insists 
on  being  a  Negro.  Perhaps  it  is  best.  His 
father  deserves  to  be  crucified  in  him.  But  his 
children  ?  I  do  not  think  I  am  as  nearly  white- 
souled  as  I  once  was.  Perhaps  with  the  dark 
integument,  I  have  received  some  of  the  nature 
of  the  dark  race.  At  least,  I  cannot  bear  to 
think  of  a  father  condemning  his  children  to 
debasement.  Of  course,  if  I  were  really  white, 
I  should  not  mind  it — perhaps  would  count  it 
praiseworthy  in  a  man,  to  put  an  impassable 
abyss  between  himself  and  the  children  of  his 
shame !  But  as  it  is,  I  shudder  at  the  thought 
that  a  man  should  beget  souls,  whom  he  knows 
must  transmit  the  curse  of  inferiority, — the 
ever-present  thought  of  injustice  and  debase- 
ment,— to  unnumbered  generations,  transform- 
ing the  bequest  of  love  into  an  inheritance  of 
reproach  and  hate.  I  shall  disappear  when  I 
have  seen  her, — I  hardly  dare  call  her  my  child 
now,  even  in  these  pages — fairly  started  in  life. 
Perhaps  I  may  induce  Benny  to  abandon  his 
Quixotic  notions  and  look  out  for  the  happi- 
ness of  himself  and  his  own.  These  things 


MY  THIRD.  321 

would  make  a  good  ending  of  a  life  that  has 
been  vainly  devoted  to  obliterating  the  curse 
that  rested  on  it.  I  would  be  willing  to  suffer 
more  than  I  have,  to  see  these  purposes  even 
half-accomplished.  There  is  no  reason  why  I 
should  not  succeed,  but  somehow  I  am  afraid 
of  failure. 

My  blue-eyed,  fair-haired  daughter  does  not 
imagine  that  I  am  her  father.  I  have  cared 
for  her  only  as  the  servant  of  her  dead  parent. 
God!  How  hard  it  has  been!  Especially  in 
these  later  years  when  I  saw  her  blossoming 
into  beautiful  womanhood  !  But  that  way  only 
lies  salvation  for  her.  Once  known  to  be  my 
daughter, — or  even  suspected  of  relationship 
with  me — and  all  the  influences  of  Christian 
civilization  will  be  arrayed  to  drive  her  back 
into  the  abyss  of  shame  from  which  I  have 
struggled  to  save  her — her  and  her  children, 
who  I  trust  may  yet  rise  up  and  call  her 
blessed  ! 

"  The  white  Christ  does  not  permit  even 
the  fairest  and  purest  to  enter  that  most  ex- 
clusive of  civilized  castes, — the  rank  of  his 
favored  disciples, — if  a  hint  of  color  can  be 
found  in  their  lineage.  It  is  true  that  Negro 
worshipers  are  permitted  at  His  altars,  but  it 
is  on  sufferance,  merely.  They  must  not  ap- 
proach too  nearly  the  white  believers,  even  in 


322  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

prayer.  Its  law  is  inflexible :  the  white  man 
may  touch  the  colored  race  without  shame, 
only  to  do  it  wrong.  Sins  which  would  be 
mortal,  if  done  against  a  white  man,  are  but 
venial  if  perpetrated  against  the  Negro.  As 
for  the  colored  woman, — this  is  the  openly 
declared  edict  of  Christian  civilization,  which 
no  man  dare  deny  'One  drop  of  Negro  blood 
known  to  exist  in  the  veins  of  a  woman  draws 
her  down  to  the  social  status  of  the  Negro, 
and  impresses  upon  her  whole  life  the  stamp 
of  the  fateful  Negro  caste,  though  she  may 
rival  the  Easter  lily  in  the  whiteness  of  her 
skin,  and  the  purity  of  her  soul.' 

"So  I  have  kept  my  Easter  lily  white.  Her 
friends  are  white;  and  her  faith? — I  do  not 
know  about  that.  I  could  not  bring  myself 
to  have  her  taught  that  form  of  Christian  faith 
which  has  been  so  fateful  to  all  colored  peo- 
ples. While  I  wished  her  to  be  white,  I  could 
not  bear  that  she  should  be  taught  to  despise 
the  race  with  which  she  is  even  remotely  allied. 
She  has  been  educated  by  the  Good  Sisters  ; 
but  they  were  instructed  that  no  effort  to 
proselyte  her  would  be  tolerated.  I  have  seen 
her  only  twice  since  she  went  away.  I  trust 
she  still  believes  in  Christ, — whether  she  be- 
lieves in  Christianity  or  not,  is  of  little  moment. 
The  followers  of  the  white  Christ  are  tolerant 


MY  THIRD.  3:3 

of  unbelief.  The  most  notorious  mocker  that 
ever  lived,  if  he  be  but  white,  is  accounted 
better  than  the  saintliest  black  who  ever 
sought  Divine  mercy  for  those  who  sinned 
against  him.  My  hope  is  that  the  child  has 
never  suspected  her  own  origin,  and  if  that  be 
the  case,  it  is  my  explicit  request  that  she  may 
never  know  it. 

"  Should  she  have  such  suspicion,  however, 
and  manifest  any  inclination  to  identify  herself 
in  whatever  mariner,  and  for  whatever  purpose, 
with  that  most  unfortunate  people,  I  desire 
that  she  shall  first  read  this  account  of  my  life, 
and  determine  for  herself  what  is  the  duty  she 
owes  to  herself  and  her  posterity.  I  do  not 
wish  to  impose  conditions  upon  her,  but  I  hope 
she  may  not  decide  hastily. 

"There  is  not  much  more  to  tell.  I  would 
be  glad  to  have  her  take  the  name  which  I 
made  honorable  as  a  soldier,  both  because  of 
that  fact,  and  because  it  would  take  her  farther 
away  from  the  suspicion  it  is  of  all  things 
needful  for  her  to  avoid." 


XXV. 

"  BLOOD   WILL  TELL." 

WHEN  Mr.  Ephraim  Collins  had  finished 
the  perusal  of  this  record,  he  sat  a  long 
while  looking  out  upon  the  crowds  who  were 
passing  to  and  fro  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Avenue.  Yet  he  did  not  seem  to  be  notic- 
ing them.  On  the  contrary,  as  he  held  the  red- 
covered  book  tightly  clasped  in  his  hand,  he 
seemed  to  behold  faces  no  longer  visible — to 
be  living  over  a  momentous  past,  or  perhaps 
speculating  in  regard  to  a  still  more  momen- 
tous future.  It  may  be  that  he  was  only  try- 
ing to  solve  that  ever-recurring  problem  of 
human  life :  How  will  Yesterday's  conditions 
affect  To-morrow's  tendencies  and  the  world's 
destiny? 

After  a  time,  he  crossed  the  room  and  laid 
the  book  upon  the  lawyer's  desk.  His  face 
was  very  grave,  and  his  voice  earnest  and  sub- 
dued, as  he  said  : 

"  I  am  sorry  I  didn't  see  him, — to  know  him, 
that  is.  He  had  a  hard  time,  certainly,  without 
324 


"BLOOD   WILL   TELL."  325 

being  very  much  to  blame  himself,  as  it  seems 
to  me.  What  he  says  is  all  true  so  far  as  I 
know.  As  for  the  blow  my  brother  received, 
though  I  don't  think  he  ever  got  over  it,  I 
must  say  I  don't  blame  Pac.  As  to  what  hap- 
pened afterwards,  I  never  knew  it  until  after 
he  was  dead.  The  doctor  told  me, — the  same 
one  who  attended  Pac  when  he  was  shot.  He 
told  me  about  that,  too,  the  shooting  I  mean, 
not  the  transformation — and  I  naturally  put 
the  two  things  together.  I  suppose  the  doctor 
thought  I  would  "never  know  the  man  again, 
even  if  I  found  him,  as  proved  to  be  the  case. 
It's  well  I  didn't,  too  ;  but  now  I've  read  what 
he  has  written  I  think  it  must  have  been  the 
woman's  doings — Martha's,  I  mean.  They're 
queer,  sometimes,  those  nigger-women  ;  get 
desperate,  you  know,  and  are  as  unaccountable 
as — as  if  they  were  white.  It's  more  like  a 
woman — such  a  revenge — and  then  her  stay- 
ing with  brother  Jun  afterwards. 

"  You  wonder  what  I'm  talking  about  ?  I 
told  you  my  brother  had  suffered  an  injury. 
It  must  have  been  about  the  time  he  bought 
the  place  of  the  widow — as  everybody  sup- 
posed she  was,  at  least — somebody  broke  in  on 
brother  Bug  one  night,  tied  him  up  and  abused 
him,  shamefully.  He  wasn't  ever  the  same  man 
afterwards.  The  widow,  she  ran  away — afraid 


326  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

of  her  life  as  I  take  it,  though  perhaps  she'd 
no  reason  to  be — and  this  woman,  Martha, 
came  and  took  care  of  him.  She  always  lived 
with  him  afterwards,  and  is  on  the  place  man- 
aging it  now.  The  doctor  says  the  truth  never 
got  out,  and  I  expect  that  this  woman  was 
at  the  bottom  of  the  whole  matter, — doing 
it  to  revenge  Pac's  injury,  you  see.  However 
that  may  be,  brother  Bug  came  to  feel  mighty 
kindly  toward  her,  before  he  died,  and  left  her 
enough  to  make  her  well  off.  She  said  she 
didn't  want  it,  though ;  she'd  promised  him  to 
stay  on  the  plantation  until  them  that  was 
entitled  to  it  came  to  take  possession  ;  then 
she  was  going  back  to  the  Swamp." 

"  She  will  not  be  disturbed,"  said  the  lawyer. 

"I.  doubt  if  she  stays  when  she  learns  the 
man  is  dead,"  added  Collins.  "  She's  a  good 
manager,  though,"  he  continued  thriftily. 

"  I  suppose  he  made  a  good  deal  of  money 
here?"  he  inquired  after  a  moment.  "  Pac,  I 
mean." 

"  He  was  very  well  off,"  answered  the  law- 
yer cautiously. 

"  So  I  hear :  I'm  glad  of  it,  too, — glad  of  it. 
As  he  says,  it's  in  the  blood  to  get  along.  He 
couldn't  have  been  a  Collins  and  missed  the 
chances  he's  had  here,  What's  the  daughter 
like  ?  " 


"BLOOD   WILL  TELL."  327 

The  lawyer  opened  a  drawer  of  his  desk,  and 
took  from  it  a  photograph,  which  he  handed 
to  the  other,  who  scanned  it  closely. 

"  Favors  her  mother,  don't  she  ? "  he  said. 
"  One  can  see  she's  a  Collins,  though,"  he 
added  with  a  touch  of  pride  in  his  tone.  "  Got 
any  amount  of  sense,  I'll  guarantee." 

The  lawyer  smiled. 

"  Has  she  any  idea  of — of — the  truth  ?  " 

"Not  a  doubt  of  it." 

"What'll  she  do?" 

"  What  can  she  do  ?  " 

"  Why,  she's  rich,  educated,  handsome." 

The  lawyer  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Nobody  would  know,"  suggested  Collins 
earnestly. 

"  She  would  know." 

"  You  don't  mean  that  she  will  throw  away 
all  the  chances  her  father  worked  so  hard  to 
give  her,  and  become  a — nigger !  " 

A  look  of  supreme  disgust  passed  over  the 
speaker's  face  as  he  uttered  these  words,  show- 
ing how  sincere  was  his  estimate  of  the  degra- 
dation attaching  to  such  a  course. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  she  will  do,"  said  the 
lawyer,  wrinkling  his  brow  and  biting  the  side 
of  his  mustache.  "  I  do  not  suppose  she  her- 
self has  any  idea  yet :  but  one  thing  I  feel  sure 
about :  she  will  never  sail  under  false  colors, 


328  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

and  she  will  never  submit  to  be  regarded  as  an 
inferior." 

"  But  her  father's  wish,"  urged  the  other. 

"  She  is  much  more  likely  to  heed  his  ex- 
ample than  his  words.  He  struggled  all  his 
life  to  win  equality  of  opportunity  and  esteem. 
He  concluded  that  such  struggle  was  hopeless: 
that  color-caste  has  become  a  part  of  Christ- 
ianity, or  at  least  of  Protestant  Christianity, 
and  that  it  is  useless  to  combat  it.  He  advises 
dissimulation,  therefore,  as  the  only  means  by 
which  his  daughter  and  her  posterity  may 
obtain  the  paltry  privilege  of  standing  on  a 
level  with  thousands  who  are  in  every  respect 
her  inferiors.  This  involves,  of  course,  a  denial 
of  her  paternity.  Such  denial  she  will  never 
make,  nor  allow  to  be  made  by  any  implication, 
on  her  behalf.  She  may  leave  the  country, — 
defy  public  sentiment — or  do  anything  else, 
except  deny  her  relationship  to  a  father  whom 
she  worships  as  a  hero." 

"  I  don't  blame  her,"  said  Collins  medita- 
tively ;  "but  it — it  don't  seem  necessary.  If 
the  country  was  all  Southern,  it  would  be 
different — but  the  people  of  the  North, — " 

'*  You're  wanted  at  the  telephone,  sir," 
said  a  clerk  entering  from  another  room.  "  Dr, 
Holbrook,  I  think,"  he  added. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  the  lawyer  rising. 


"BLOOD   WILL    TELL."  329 

When  he  returned  a  few  minutes  after- 
wards, the  conversation  was  not  resumed. 
The  details  of  settlement  and  adjustment 
were  left  to  be  determined  between  Collins 
and  the  Major. 


XXVI. 

THE   LAW   OF   PROGRESS. 

IT  was  only  a  few  minutes  after  Ephraim 
Collins  left,  that  Dr.  Holbrook  entered  the 
office. 

"How  do  you  do,  Doctor?"  said  Phelps 
cordially,  as  he  extended  his  hand  for  the  wraps 
which  the  other,  with  professional  carefulness, 
was  proceeding  unbidden  to  remove.  "  I  hope 
you  are  none  the  worse  for  last  night's  expo- 
sure ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  is  nothing,"  answered  the  physi- 
cian. "  Of  course,  I  do  not  go  out  at  night  pro- 
fessionally, as  a  rule — not  after  ten  o'clock,  that 
is.  It  is  a  matter  of  self-defense  when  one  comes 
to  my  time  of  life.  Besides  that,  it  is  only  fair 
to  the  young  fellows.  It  is  no  easy  matter  to 
start  a  practice  in  a  great  city,  and  if  those  who 
have  attained  rank  in  the  profession  did  not 
give  the  youngsters  a  chance,  there  would  be  no 
way  for  them  to  get  on  at  all,  until  somebody 
died.  I  can  remember  when  I  thought  it  the 
330 


THE  LA  W  OF  PROGRESS.  331 

very  acme  of  good  fortune  that  an  emi- 
nent physician  should  send  his  night-cases 
to  me." 

"  So  you 'are  doing  a  like  favor  for  another?" 

"  Certainly  ;  it  is  the  common  tariff  of  good- 
will, which  every  one  must  pay  who  would  be 
esteemed  worthy  of  a  place  in  the  great  repub- 
lic of  science.  Only  a  hog  climbs  up  the  ladder 
of  success  and  remains  indifferent  to  those  upon 
the  rungs  below  him." 

"  I  am  afraid  few  practice  such  liberal  phil- 
osophy," said  the  lawyer  smiling. 

"  More  than  you  think,  sir, — more  than  you 
think,"  answered  the  physician  enthusiastically. 
"  Men  do  more  good  than  we  give  them  credit 
for,  anyhow — do  it  almost  unconsciously.  It  is 
only  when  they  become  possessed  with  an  idea 
that  they  are  exceptionally  good  or  wise  or 
capable,  that  they  become  thoroughly  selfish. 
Individuals,  classes  or  peoples  who  are  pos- 
sessed with  an  idea  of  their  own  inherent  supe- 
riority are  always  deaf  to  any  consideration  of 
justice  to  another.  Their  wish,  inclination, 
pleasure,  over-rides  another's  right,  and  makes 
injustide  seem  a  natural  and  proper  thing  for 
them  to  do.  These  are  swinish  ethics,  whether 
manifested  in  the  life  of  the  individual  or  so- 
ciety. There  is  much  less  of  it  than  one  would 
suppose,  individually,  but  collectively  it  gets  to 


33 2  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

be  a  fashion  in  every  state  of  society  in  which 
the  attention  of  individuals  becomes,  as  it 
were,  introverted,  fastened  upon  their  own  lux- 
uries and  enjoyment,  instead  of  being  fixed 
upon  new  duties  and  fresh  achievements.  Pro- 
gress is  always  liberal." 

"  One  would  think,  Doctor,  that  you  supposed 
all  physical  analogies  to  hold  good  in  the  moral 
and  social  world." 

"  I  told  you  last  night  how  hard  it  is  for  me 
to  let  go  of  a  line  of  thought  on  which  I  have 
once  started.  I  may  take  a  rest  upon  it  for 
years,  but  when  something  calls  it  up  again,  off 
I  go  as  fresh  as  a  hound  who  strikes  a  trail  after 
having  lost  it.  Our  experience  last  night 
started  me  on  one  of  these  trails,  and  I  thought 
I  would  come  around  and  tell  you  of  it  while  it 
is  fresh  in  my  mind.  I  don't  suppose  I  shall 
ever  elaborate  it  any  further,  but  I  really  think 
it  has  in  it  the  kernel  of  a  great  philosophy.  I 
do  not  know  that  the  proposition  is  a  universal 
one,  but  its  illustrations  are  frequent  enough  to 
show  that  it  is  not  limited  to  the  physical  world 
at  least.  The  idea  is  this,  that  the  penalty  of 
evil-doing  partakes,  generally,  if  not  always,  of 
the  nature  of  the  sin  itself.  That  this  is  a 
divine  law  appertaining  to  nations  and  peo- 
ples as  well  as  to  individuals. 

"Of  course,  in  the    physical    world,   it  has 


THE  LA  W  OF  PROGRESS.  333 

hourly  exemplifications.  Disease  is,  in  most 
cases,  the  result  of  the  physical  sin  of  the  indi- 
vidual or  of  those  responsible  for  his  tendencies. 
A  man  abuses  the  organs  of  his  body,  and  is 
punished  by  their  rebellion.  That  is  all  there 
is  of  it.  The  sin  may  be  through  ignorance, 
accident,  or  sheer  neglect.  No  matter,  it  is  all 
sin — a  violation  of  physical  law — and  the  pen- 
alty follows.  A  man  overloads  his  stomach  and 
is  punished  by  its  qualms  ;  he  overtaxes  his 
nerves  and  his  hand  becomes  unsteady,  his 
eye  refuses  to  do  his  bidding,  or  his  brain  plays 
him  false  in  its  deductions.  In  every  case,  the 
penalty  partakes  of  the  very  character  of  the 
crime." 

"  But  suppose  it  is-an  inherited  or  epidemic 
disease  ?  " 

"  Then  you  merely  separate  cause  and  effect 
and  make  it  harder  to  ascertain  the  fact  of  simi- 
larity. Somebody  has  sinned  blindly  or  will- 
fully against  physical  health,  and  that  sin  has 
produced  either  a  heritable  tendency  or  an 
avenging  spore,  which  carries  the  very  type 
of  its  cause  into  other  lands,  or  sends  it 
down  to  scourge  the  descendants  of  the  of- 
fender." 

"  That  seems  clear  enough,  so  far  as  heri- 
table disease  is  concerned." 

11  But    hardly   accounts   for   contagion,  you 


334  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

think  ?  Very  probably  not,  and  yet  there  are 
a  good  many  things  that  point  that  way.  Of 
course,  we  know  the  origin  of  but  few  such  dis- 
eases, yet  what  we  do  know  about  them  is 
consistent  with  this  theory.  There  is  cholera, 
for  instance.  Universal  tradition  points  to  its 
origin  among  the  weak,  half-starved,  thirst- 
parched  pilgrims  of  the  eastern  world.  How 
suggestive  of  the  prostration  resulting  from 
these  combined  causes,  is  that  sudden  collapse 
which  is  the  special  symptom  of  this  disease  ! 
The  spore  reproduces,  you  see,  with  deadly  cer- 
tainty the  very  types  of  human  suffering  which 
resulted  from  the  primal  violation  of  physical 
law, — the  causative  sin.  It  is  merely  a  multi- 
plied avenger  whose  function  is  to  destroy  so 
many  that  such  violations  of  natural  law  shall 
be  prevented — cured,  remedied,  don't  you  see  ? 
It  is  the  lash  of  fear  applied  to  human  con- 
sciousness. There  are  other  diseases  which 
even  more  clearly  illustrate  this,  and  some,  I 
must  admit,  of  the  origin  of  which  we  know 
too  little  to  make  any  reliable  deduction  in 
regard  to  them." 

"  But  how  do  you  get  across  the  dividing  line 
and  apply  your  principle  to  evil  which  is  not 
of  a  physical  character,  or  which  is  general  in 
its  application  to  nations  or  races?  I  confess 
I  do  not  see." 


THE  LA  W  OF  PROGRESS.  335 

"  Yet  you  frequently  act  oil  the  idea,  that  it 
does,"  said  the  physician.  "  You  admit  the 
principle  that  violence  begets  violence :  that 
every  act  of  larceny  increases  the  number  of 
those  inclined  to  steal ;  that  reckless  greed  of 
gain  stimulates  fraud  ;  arid  the  making  wealth 
the  sole  measure  of  merit  comes,  at  length,  to 
curse  the  perpetrators  in  their  strength.  Look 
at  the  robber-nation  which  discovered  the  New 
World.  More  than  half  of  it  became  subject 
to  her  sway.  The  very  spirit  of  pillage  which 
was  implanted  in  the  breasts  of  her  people 
has  wrought  her  own  destruction.  England's 
greed  for  individual  wealth  has  given  her  a 
horde  of  dependent  paupers  whose  lust  for 
possession  is  beginning  to  threaten,  not  merely 
her  peace,  but  the  overthrow  of  the  very  system 
by  which  her  boasted  wealth  was  acquired.  If 
history  teaches  anything,  it  is,  to  my  mind  at 
least,  that  the  nation  which  perpetrates  wrong 
upon  another  nation  or  people,  simply  plaits 
the  scourge  that  shall  some  time  be  laid  upon 
its  own  back." 

"  Figuratively,  you  mean,  of  course." 
"  Literally.  I  mean  that  there  is  that  mys- 
tical quality  attached  to  the  very  act  of  wrong- 
doing that  sets  in  motion  the  causes  which 
produce  retributory  consequences  of  similar 
character.  Sometimes  they  are  physical, 


336  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

sometimes  they  are  moral,  sometimes  eco- 
nomical." 

"  Then  you  would  make  the  innocent  suffer 
as  well  as  the  guilty  ? 

"  There  is  no  question  of  guilt  or  innocence 
in  it,  because  it  does  not  depend  in  the  least 
degree  upon  intent.  A  law  is  violated  :  the 
penalty  must  be  paid  :  that  is  all  there  is  of  it. 
Whether  it  is  the  doer  of  evil ;  those  who  profit 
by  his  acts  ;  those  who  are  sureties  for  his  good 
behavior,  or  those  on  whom  the  heritage  of  his 
evil  descends,  it  matters  not.  The  penalty  must 
be  paid,  and  as  the  wrong  is,  such  in  type  must 
be  the  expiation. 

"Yes,  the  innocent  suffer  with  the  guilty. 
That  is  the  way  God  applies  the  lash  to  human- 
ity so  as  to  secure  amendment.  You  remem- 
ber how  the  typhus  swept  over  the  city  a  few 
years  ago  when  the  great  sewer  burst.  It  was 
a  crime.  The  laws  of  nature  had  been  violated  : 
dishonest  work  done  :  insufficient  safeguards 
provided.  We  have  hardly  ceased  to  pay  the 
penalty  yet.  Every  now  and  then,  the  spores 
then  scattered,  spring  into  new  life  and  we  bury 
another  victim.  Good  and  bad,  innocent  and 
guilty  alike  suffered.  The  Divine  scourged 
and  terrified.  We  made  haste  to  apply  the 
remedy — no,  not  the  remedy  ;  there  could  be 
none  ;  the  time  for  remedy  had  passed  :  the 


THE  LA  ic  OF  rxoGxxss.  337 

dead  were  dead  ;  the  dying  doomed.  But  we 
provided  a  safeguard,  a  prevcntative  of  future 
evil  of  like  character — we  made  a  sufficient 
and  reliable  sewer." 

"  Well,  Doctor,"  said  the  lawyer  gravely,  "  no 
one  can  accuse  you  of  building  on  a  narrow 
foundation.  You  would  make  every  day's  life 
a  lesson  taught  by  the  Divine." 

"  And  why  not  ?  He  whose  wisdom  framed 
the  laws  of  life  must  be  a  continuing  teacher 
of  those  that  live  and  have  intelligence  to  ken 
the  lessons  He  would  impart.  Not  more  cer- 
tainly is  it  true  that  '  necessity  is  the  mother 
of  invention,'  than  that  suffering  is  the  seed  of 
progress.  You  see  it  in  the  law.  Some  man's 
smart  has  been  the  source  of  other's  safety  in 
every  branch  of  legislation  and  jurisprudence. 
Every  flower  of  political  progress  has  sprung 
from  some  kernel  of  oppression.  Wrong  is  the 
only  subsoil  from  which  legal  right  has  ever 
come." 

"  I  do  not  know  but  you  are  right,"  said  the 
other  cautiously. 

"  In  material  progress  the  same  is  true. 
Weakness  and  terror  are  the  only  sources  of 
progress.  The  lightning  killed  for  ages  :  the 
philosopher  sought  a  way  to  restrain  it  and  dis- 
covered the  mightiest  servant  of  man.  The 
winds  are  slow  and  treacherous:  we  imprison  the 


338  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

mist  and  mock  alike  at  their  violence  and  their 
lagging.  The  sea  overflows  and  destroys  ;  we 
build  a  dike.  A  reservoir  gives  way  and  thou- 
sands perish  :  we  are  taught  the  use  of  a  waste- 
gate.  The  agony  of  millions  wrings  the  heart 
of  man  until,  groping  for  relief,  we  find  an 
anaesthetic.  In  everything  suffering— actual  or 
prospective — isthe  chief  impulse  toward  amend- 
ment. Sometimes  it  takes  the  form  of  cure, 
sometimes  the  higher  form  of  prevention. 
Why  should  we  not  trace  this  law  in  the 
molar  movements  of  history  as  well  as  in  the 
restricted  domain  of  medicine,  law,  and  ma- 
terial science?" 

"  Perhaps  it  might  be  done." 

"  Well,  I  did  not  come  to  convert  you  to 
my  new  doctrine  nor  trap  you  into  dangerous 
admissions.  What  I  wanted  to  tell  you  was 
a  strange  illustration  of  this  theory  which  came 
into  my  mind  after  I  left  you  last  night,  and 
kept  me  awake  the  greater  part  of  the  time 
until  morning.  Did  you  ever  trace  the  origin 
of  the  yellow  fever?" 

"  I  do  not  remember  to  have  heard  it,  though 
I  have  an  impression  that  it  somehow  came 
from  Africa." 

"You  are  just  half  right:  it  was  generated 
on  the  way  from  Africa.  It  was  born  on  the 
coast  of  America  of  the  African  Slave  Trade. 


THE  LA  IT  OF  PKOGKESS.  339 

It  is  the  child  of.  its  horrors.  Now,  see  the 
application  of  my  theory.  The  yellow  fever 
appeared  first  in  the  slave  ports  of  the  New 
World,  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ~go.  It 
was  never  heard  of  in  Africa  until  within  the 
last  half-century.  This  is  not  strange,  for  it 
preys  only  on  the  white  man  or  those  having  a 
modicum  of  white  blood  in  their  veins. 

"What  was  its  cause?  Evidently,  as  says 
a  noted  author,'  the  unique  unwholesomeness  of 
the  life  summed  up  in  the  phrase, 'the  horrors 
of  the  middle  passage.' '  Among  such  horrors, 
nostalgia,  despair,  the  sense  of  wrong  were  not 
the  least.  To  these  were  added  perpetual  and 
overwhelming  terror, — fear  of  future  nameless 
evil.  These  are  the  very  emotional  conditions 
that  have  been  known,  now  and  then,  in  the 
ordinary  way  of  life,  to  produce  that  very  con- 
dition of  the  visceral  organs  which  is  the 
distinctive  'note'  of  yellow  fever, — what  we 
term  acute  atrophy  of  the  liver." 

"  It  is  very  singular." 

"Singular!"  echoed  the  physician,  turning 
fiercely  upon  his  friend,  "  singular  !  You  speak 
of  one  of  the  mosi  beautiful  and  terrible  acts 
of  Divine  justice  as  you  would  of  the  stuffed 
skin  of  a  two-headed  calf  in  a  dime  museum  ! 
Singulai1!  It  is  as  amazing,  sir,  as  the  wisdom 
which  calculated  the  weight  of  the  planets  and 


340  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

hung  them  circling  in  their  orbits  through  the 
trackless  realms  of  space  !  The  least  is  not  less 
wonderful  than  the  greatest.  It  shows  Him  to 
be  the  God  of  atoms  as  well  as  of  worlds. 
Singular!  Let  us  look  at  its  '  singular*  fea- 
tures. Yellow  fever  is  a  form  of  typhus ; 
typhus  springs  from  filth.  The  filth  of  the 
slavers  was  so  great  that  the  smell  was  some- 
times detected  almost  before  they  were  sighted 
at  sea.  So  said  a  British  officer,  whose  experi- 
ence in  the  matter  was  very  great,  in  the  pages 
of  an  official  report.  Typhus  is  the  penalty  of 
filth,  and  typhus  naturally  appeared  in  the  ports 
where  these  ships  discharged  their  cargoes. 
So  far  there  is  nothing  '  singular  '  about  it,  we 
may  say,  because  humanity  has  become  accus- 
tomed to  this  peculiar  penalty  for  this  particu- 
lar sin. 

"  Just  here  comes  the  '  singular  '  thing.  God 
stamps  this  as  a  peculiar  form  of  typhus  by 
giving  it  the  physical  features  which  had 
marked  the  suffering  of  the  slaver's  cargo 
during  those  terrible  days  of  darkness,  storm, 
heat,  terror,  and  all  the  untold  horrors  of  that 
crowning  enormity  of  man  to  man.  Only 
think  of  it  !  Of  nine  millions  that  left  the 
African  coast  more  than  two  millions  perished 
on  the  passage ! 

"  And  God  wrought  out  of  their  sufferings  a 


THE  LA  W  OF  PROGRESS.  341 

scourge  for  the  oppressor  and  those  allied  to 
him  in  blood  and  interest.  This  is  the  '  singu- 
lar feature :  the  yellow  fever  did  not  touch 
the  Negro,  and  even  yet  only  smites  the  col- 
ored man  when  the  white  man's  blood  is  in 
his  veins  and  he  has  become  a  joint  heir  of  the 
curse  attached  to  the  white  man's  sin." 

"  This  might  result  from  racial  differences, 
might  it  not  ?"  asked  the  lawyer. 

"  Some  have  sought  to  weaken  the  too  appa- 
rent force  of  the  conclusion  I  have  given,  by 
that  hypothesis.  Some  authors  even  go  so  far 
as  to  declare  that '  the  emanations  of  the  Negro 
are  poisonous  to  the  more  delicately  organized 
superior  white  race.'  They  would  have  us 
believe  that  this  disease  was  not  given  its  char- 
acteristic '  note  '  because  of  the  wrong  done  to 
the  slave,  but  because  he  was  a  Negro.  We 
are  not  left  in  doubt,  however,  in  regard  to  the 
truth.  Having  fashioned  the  sword  for  the 
punishment  of  a  particular  evil,  God  is  not  slow 
to  apply  it  to  the  perpetrators  of  that  wrong; 
whether  the  victims  are  of  one  race  or  another. 
A  form  of  yellow  fever,  hardly  distinguishable 
from  that  which  tracked  the  course  of  the 
African  slaver,  sprang  up  in  the  ports  of  Peru 
and  Chili,  where  it  had  before  been  unknown, 
only  a  score  of  years  ago,  in  the  wake  of 
the  Chinese  Coolie-trade — an  enormity  only  a 


342  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

shade  less  horrible  than  the  African  slave- 
trade.  Mark  now  the  result, — the  Coolies 
were  exempt  from  its  scath  !  Do  you  think 
that  merely  'singular'  too?" 

The  lawyer's  lips  were  closely  shut.  Hold- 
ing one  hand  between  his  face  and  the  glow- 
ing grate,  he  was  gazing  intently  at  his 
friend. 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  he  said,  solemnly. 

"  Strange  ?  Why  should  you  term  it  strange  ? 
Is  it  any  more  strange,  than  any  other  great 
and  terrible  fact  of  nature  ?  Is  it  not  about 
time  that  the  world, — that  Christianity,  if  you 
please, — began  to  recognize  God  as  a  force  in 
life  and  history  ?  Have  we  not  sinned  and  suf- 
fered long  enough  to  perceive  the  great,  beauti- 
ful, yet  terrible  truth  that  the  laws  of  nature 
are  not  restricted  by  visible  barriers,  but  that 
mind  and  matter  touch  each  other  in  cause 
and  consequence, — that  an  evil  done  to  the 
soul  may  be  punished  through  the  body  and 
may  blast  the  life  of  the  wrong-doer  or  those 
whose  lives  spring  from  his  life,  without  harm- 
ing his  victim  ?  Isn't  it  about  time  that  we 
began  to  realize  and  to  teach  that  justice  is 
the  prime  ingredient  of  political  economy." 

"  What  happened  to  set  you  off  on  this  line 
of  thought  just  now,  Doctor?  " 

"  Prime,"  answered   the   physician    sharply, 


THE  LA  W  OF  PROGRESS.  343 

"  his  family  and  the  anomaly  he  represents.  I 
wondered  what  the  penalty  would  be  that 
will  assuredly  attach  to  our  race  for  centuries 
of  wrong  done  to  his  race.  We  forbade  mar- 
riage to  millions :  will  the  marriage  tie  be- 
come a  mockery  with  us?  We  falsified  our 
religion  and  our  laws,  in  order  to  make  them 
an  excuse  and  a  justification  for  wrong :  shall 
we  suffer  in  our  liberties  and  our  faith  ?  We 
robbed  him  of  the  proceeds  of  his  toil ;  is  it 
possible  that  we  ourselves  may  become  the 
victims  of  an  intangible  but  irresistible  trans- 
lation of  power  from  the  hands  of  the  many 
to  the  hands  of  the  few?  " 

The  two  men  sat  a  few  moments,  looking  at 
each  other  in  silence. 

"  Why  do  you  not  elaborate  your  theory, 
Doctor,  and  give  it  to  the  world  in  permanent 
form  ?" 

"  I  haven't  any  theory,"  replied  the  physi- 
cian thoughtfully ;  "  I  wish  I  had.  It  only 
seems  as  if  I  could  feel  the  edge  of  a  truth  too 
great  for  me  to  grasp,  and  which  may  yet  be  as 
familiar  to  the  common  mind  as  the  marvels  of 
electricity  are  to  the  boy  of  to-day.  It  seems 
to  me  as  if  we  were  just  on  the  verge  of  the 
discovery  of  some  universal  law  of  life,  by  which 
effects  may  be  forecasted  in  the  moral  and 
political  world  with  the  same  accuracy  as  in 


344  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

the  physical.  Perhaps  I  thought  you  might 
help  me.  In  our  profession  we  have  carried 
the  study  of  cause  and  effect  far  enough  so 
that  if  you  tell  me  what  physical  sin  a  man  or 
a  people  are  committing,  I  can  tell  you,  in  a 
general  way  of  course,  what  will  be  the  penalty 
they  will  have  to  pay.  Has  anybody  done 
the  same  with  collective  moral  ills?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not,"  answered  the  other. 

"  Do  you  suppose  .anybody  believes  in  such 
consequences — as  I  do  in  the  results  of  the 
violation  of  physical  laws,  I  mean  ?  " 

"Very  few,  I  should  say." 

"  Do  you  suppose  any  considerable  number 
of  people  believe  that  the  sin  a  nation  com- 
mits to-day  will  surely  attach  to  its  people 
to-morrow,  unless  it  is  remedied  and  its  ten- 
dency rebutted  ?" 

"  I  am  afraid  not." 

"  I  suppose  not.  Well,  it  was  a  good  while 
before  our  profession  began  the  study  of  causes 
rather  than  effects.  It  is  hardly  a  century,  but 
in  that  time  we  have  made  more  progress,  in 
remedial  and  preventative  knowledge,  than  in 
all  time  before.  Perhaps  we  may  yet  apply 
the  same  system  of  inquiry  to  moral  evils — 
social,  political  and  economic.  Why  should 
we  not  ?  " 

"  It   wouldn't  be  a  bad    idea   if  the   theory 


THE  LA  IV  OF  PROGRESS.  345 

were  true,"  said  the  lawyer  musingly.  "  If  one 
could  determine  the  causes  of  crime  and 
poverty  and  injustice,  it  might  help  to  pre- 
vent them,  if  it  were  no  aid  in  curing 
them." 

"  That  is  it,"  replied  the  doctor;  "  causative 
knowledge  may  be  of  very  little  value  in  curing 
disease,  but  it  is  the  foundation  of  all  preventive 
science.  Well,  I  must  be  going.  I  don't  often 
have  such  an  attack ;  you  may  be  thankful  for 
that." 

He  put  on  his  wraps,  and  was  soon  absorbed 
in  considering  a  case  more  easily  diagnosed 
than  the  moral  ills  of  his  time. 

"  That,"  said  the  lawyer  to  himself  as  the 
door  closed  on  his  friend,  "  is  the  way  science 
compels  progress — in  religion  and  government, 
as  well  as  in  its  own  domain.  Perhaps  he  is 
right.  If  he  is,  it  simply  enlarges  the  sphere 
of  individual  duty  and  adds  to  the  weight  of 
individual  responsibility.  So,  again,  extremes 
meet  and  the  character  of  the  greatest  hinges 
onithe  nature  of  the  least — the  events  of  his- 
tory on  the  nature  of  the  constituent  atoms  of 
epochal  life. 

"  It  would  seem  strange  if  the  climacteric 
sin  of  the  centuries — American  slavery — should 
have  left  behind  it  a  mysterious  spore  which 
should  breed  a  scourge  similar  in  character  to 


346  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

itself.  Yet  it  is  not  impossible.  After  another 
generation,  how  many  will  dare  resist  the  de- 
mands of  accumulated  wealth  and  corporate 
power?  Even  to-day  how  many  must  face  the 
alternative:  'Yield  or  die?'  I  wish  the  doctor 
had  not  broached  his  uncanny  doctrine.  I  do 
not  like  to  think  of  it." 


XXVII. 

WHAT   IT   IS   TO   BE   A   HERO. 

flavor  of  the  Christmas  season  still 
1  hung  about  the  capital  when  Pactolus 
Prime  was  buried.  The  wealth,  the  respecta- 
bility, a  good  deal,  of  the  official  aristocracy, 
and  not  a  little  of  the  beauty  and  fashion  of 
the  city,  crowded  to  the  stately  church  to  do 
him  honor.  The  Index  had  told  with  flaming 
headlines,  and  that  skill  which  so  readily 
weaves  fact  with  fancy,  the  story  of  the  boot- 
black of  the  Best  House,  who  had  given  a  life- 
time of  labor  and  self-sacrifice  to  restore  his  old 
master's  daughter  to  ease  and  luxury.  It  was 
a  beautiful  story,  and  the  lame,  dark-visaged 
Thoth  made  a  peculiarly  attractive  hero.  It 
was  thought  very  noble  for  him  thus  to  devote 
himself  to  the  child  of  those  whom  he  had 
served  as  a  slave.  A  thousand  tongues  were 
ready  with  strange,  half-real  stories  of  what  he 
had  said  and  done  in  those  years  when  the  suc- 
cessful speculator  was  hidden  under  the  guise 
of  the  menial.  The  city  was  .resonant  with 
347 


34^  PA  C  TOL  US  PRIME. 

acclaim  for  his  faithfulness,  self-denial  and 
sagacity. 

In  all  the  Christian  Metropolis  there  was  not 
one  who  did  not  extol  his  name  as  one  worthy 
to  be  held  in  especial  reverence  by  his  race. 
He  had  done,  they  said,  just  what  a  Negro 
ought  to  do, — been  patient,  humble,  respectful, 
and  never  sought  to  thrust  himself  forward  or 
claimed  to  be  the  equal  of  white  folks,  though 
he  had  been  so  much  more  successful  than 
many  of  them.  And  to  give  it  all  to  his  old 
master's  daughter  who  had  been  ruined  by  the 
war!  How  beautiful!  How  romantic!  If 
there  were  only  more  like  him  among  the 
"  niggers,"  it  would  not  be  so  hard  for  white 
people  to  get  along  with  them  ! 

It  was  a  touching  romance,  and  the  hearts  of 
the  Christian  Metropolis,  already  softened  by 
the  holy  festival,  responded  nobly  to  the  ap- 
peal for  recognition  of  this  phenomenal  col- 
ored man  who  had  so  faithfully  devoted  himself 
to  the  happiness  of  one  of  the  "superior  race." 
Of  course,  they  said,  he  did  nothing  more  than 
his  duty,  but  it  is  so  rare  to  find  one  of  his 
race  willing  to  recognize  any  duty  to  those  who 
kept  and  cared  for  them  so  long,  and  taught 
them  the  blessed  truth,  "  a  servant  of  servants 
shalt  thou  be  unto  thy  brethren  !  "  No  won- 
der he  loved  a  master  so  devoted  to  his  inter- 


WHA  T  IT  /s  TO  /»•/•:  ../  IH-.RO.          349 

ests  that  he  actually  died  to  prevent  him  from 
being  contaminated  by  the  vices  of  freedom. 
The  heart  of  the  American  people  melted  with 
compassionate  approval  as  they  read  the  touch- 
ing story  of  the  successful  freedman  voluntarily 
re-enslaving  himself  from  a  sense  of  duty  to  the 
child  of  a  master  he  adored.  Even  yet  the 
story  lingers  about  the  purlieus  of  the  capital 
city  of  the  Republic,  of  the  true-hearted  but 
infirm  old  slave  who,  freed  from  bondage  by 
the  event  of  war,  brought  his  master's  orph- 
aned and  impoverished  daughter  in  his  arms 
to  the  metropolis,  and  devoted  his  few  years 
of  freedom  to  her  reinstatement  in  wealth  and 
luxury. 

Curiously  enough,  his  own  race  did  not  seem 
to  manifest  as  much  enthusiasm  in  regard  to 
the  dead  man  as  the  white  people  thought  they 
should.  There  were  some  who  spoke  disap- 
provingly of  the  application  of  his  wealth  to 
secure  luxury  to  his  .master's  child  instead  of 
using  a  portion  of  it  to  uplift  his  own  race; 
and  some  who  even  referred  disparagingly  to 
the  woman  who  would  accept  such  a  munifi- 
cent bequest,  while  the  kinsmen  or  at  least 
the  fellow-servants  of  the  donor  endured 
the  poverty  and  ignorance  which  was  their 
only  inheritance  from  Christian  slavery.  Of 
course,  this  only  showed  how  incapable  the 


35°  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

race  were,  as  a  whole,  of  appreciating  the  really 
exalted  character  of  the  deceased. 

It  was  a  notable  burial !  The  Christmas 
decorations  on  the  church  wall  yet  heralded 
to  the  world  the  recently  amended  angel- 
greeting  of  the  "  new  version," — a  greeting  so 
much  sweeter  and  more  consoling  than  the  old 
one : 

"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest  and  on  earth 
peace  among  men, — with  whom  He  is  ivell 
pleased .'  " 

If  the  Divine  was  "well-pleased  "  with  men  in 
the  days  when  Herod,  the  terrible,  sought  the 
Young  Child's  life, — how  rapturous  must  be 
His  approval  of  the  most  respectable  society 
of  the  American  metropolis,  met  to  do  honor 
to  a  humble  hero  of  a  despised  race,  who  lived 
and  died  only  to  bless'  a  child  of  that  people 
to  whom  He  has  given  "  glory  and  honor 
and  dominion,"  because  they  are  white  !  To 
whom  He  has  committed  the  interpretation 
of  His  will  and  the  redemption  of  all  other 
people's !  Who  are  His  petted  children,  to 
whom  He  has  granted  the  right  to  subordinate 
and  control  all  other  races,  and  if  need  be 
to  deport  or  destroy  them  "  in  order  to  save 
Christian  civilization  from  impending  peril  "  ! 

So,  thousands  looked  upon  the  dark  face  as 
it  lay  in  the  costly  casket,  the  great  silver- 


II' If. IT  IT  IS  TO  BE  A  HERO.  3jl 

bowed  glasses  hiding  the  unseeing  eyes,  and 
the  thin  lips  smiling  grimly  and  triumphantly 
up  at  the  arched  and  decorated  ceiling  of  the 
great  church  whose  worshipers  would  have  felt 
it  almost  contaminated  by  his  presence  while 
alive.  They  buried  him  as  a  hero  because  he 
had  given  wealth  to  the  child  of  another,  the 
daughter  of  a  "superior  race."  If  they  had 
known  how  he  had  immolated  himself  to  lift 
his  own  progeny  from  shame  to  honor, — they 
would  have  spat  upon  his  bier !  The  coun- 
try's officials  came  gladly  to  do  honor  to  one 
who  had  devoted  himself  to  the  child  of  an 
enemy,  who  died  in  striking  at  the  Nation's 
heart.  They  would  have  jeered  as  the  hearse 
went  by  if  they  had  known  that  the  maimed 
and  crippled  form  had  once  fought  for  Liberty 
and  Union, — and  that  the  still  heart  loved 
above  all  things,  save  the  child  who  dared  not 
even  weep  upon  his  bier,  the  flag  his  courage 
had  saved  from  dishonor. 

The  misjudged  hero  sleeps  in  an  honored 
tomb  !  A  shaft  of  black  granite  rises  above  his 
grave, — his  soldier-name  is  inscribed  upon  it, — 
the  name  he  loved  because  he  had  created  and 
honored  it.  The  flag  for  which  he  had  fought 
looks  approvingly  down  from  the  white  dome 
of  the  Capitol.  The  wandering  pilgrim  listens 
to  the  oft-told  tale  of  his  devotion,  and  flushes 


35 *  PACTOLL'S  PKIME. 

with  admiration  as  his  lips  frame  the  tribute,— 
"  A  Hero !  "  How  they  would  mock  and  spurn 
the  dead,  if  the  true  record  of  his  heroism  were 
told!  It  is  a  grand  thing  for  a  slave  to  be 
true  to  a  master, — but  to  have  served  Liberty, 
to  have  lived  and  fought  in  starless  night  to 
save  one  loved  one  from  degradation, — ah,  me  ! 
how  terrible  would  be  the  burst  of  wrath  if  the 
black  pillar  should  reveal  the  fraud  and  tell 
the  truth  of  him  who  molders  beneath  it ! 
And  his  sacrifice, — did  it  avail  anything  to 
those  he  loved  ? 


XXVIII. 

PENALTIES. 

WELL,  I  have  found  her." 
It  was  Mr.  Stearns  who  spoke.  The 
autumn  glow  had  come  upon  the  Virginia 
hills.  The  poke-berries  were  ripe  in  the  neg- 
lected lot  on  Meridian  Hill.  The  breeze  came 
coolly  up  the  Potomac,  but  the  sun  still  glared 
down  upon  the  pitchy  pavements  and  made 
the  shadows  of  the  awnings  grateful.  The 
young  man  sat  confident  and  triumphant 
before  the  desk  of  Mr.  Phelps. 

"  Miss  Collins-Smith,  I  mean." 

"  So  I  suppose,"  said  the  lawyer  quietly, 
taking  the  corner  of  his  under  lip  between  his 
teeth  and  frowning  as  he  spoke. 

"Yes:  you  wouldn't  tell  me  where  she  was; 
so  I  set  myself  to  hunt  her  up.  The  world 
is  too  small  for  such  a  woman  to  hide  in, 
now." 

"Well?" 

"  I  found  her;  laid  siege  to  her  heart  in  due 
form,  and  a  fortnight  ago  demanded  a  sur- 
render, in  due  form." 

353 


354  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

"  You  asked  her  in  marriage?  " 

"That's  about  the  size  of  it,— '  Old  Style/ 
that  is." 

"What  did  she  say?  " 

"  Claimed  it  was  a  surprise,  of  course ;  and 
to  tell  the  truth  looked  as  if  one  might  have 
knocked  her  down  with  a  feather ;  but  stood 
me  off  stoutly,— wouldn't  give  me  a  kiss  or 
even  a  word  of  encouragement, — though  one 
could  see  she  was  hard  hit, — but  sent  me  to 
you." 

"To  me?"  asked  the  lawyer,  starting  un- 
easily. 

"  Yes ;  gave  me  this  note,  and  told  me  that 
after  I  had  read  what  you  would  show  me,  if  I 
chose  to  renew  my  proposal  she  would  be 
ready  to  give  me  an  answer." 

He  handed  out  a  thin,  square  envelope  as  he 
spoke.  The  lawyer  picked  up  a  quaint  corne- 
lian paper-cutter  which  lay  upon  the  desk,  and 
opened  it.  When  he  had  read  the  note  it  con- 
tained, he  went  to  a  safe  and  took  out  a  red- 
covered  book,  which  he  placed  upon  a  small 
stand  by  the  window. 

"  You  are  to  read  that,"  he  said  gravely  as 
he  returned  to  the  desk.  "  It  will  not  take 
you  long,  but  I  will  turn  the  key  in  the  door 
of  the  clerk's  room  and  spring  the  latch  as  I  go 
out,  so  you  will  not  be  disturbed.  You  must 


355 

excuse  me ;  I  have  to  be  in  court  this  morn- 
ing." He  took  up  his  hat  as  he  spoke. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  young  man  in  a 
tone  of  annoyance.  "A  family  history?  It 
don't  matter  though  :  I  am  too  much  in  love 
to  mind  what  her  family  has  been.  If  you 
are  not  back  before  twelve,  you  will  miss 
me.  I  am  going  to  catch  to-morrow's  steamer, 
and  you  may  look  for  my  wedding  cards  in  a 
month.  I  shall  grant  no  quarter  when  I  sum- 
mon her  again." 

The  lawyer  made  no  answer.  The  young 
man  threw  his  hat  and  stick  impatiently  upon 
the  table  and  lounged  over  to  the  stand  beside 
the  window. 

"  Well,  good-by,"  said  the  lawyer,  as  he 
started  out. 

The  drone  of  conversation  and  the  rumbling 
of  vehicles  over  the  softened  concrete  came  up 
through  the  window  as  the  young  man  sat 
down  to  the  task  love  had  enjoined  upon  him. 

When,  an  hour  later,  the  lawyer  let  himself 
in  with  the  latch-key,  he  smiled  grimly  to  find 
no  one  within,  and  the  red-covered  book  lying 
closed  upon  the  stand. 


The  Christmas-time  had  come  and  gone, 
since  the  bootblack  of  the  Best  House  had 
passed  over  to  the  majority.  His  memory  was 


35^  PACTOLUS  PRIME. 

already  a  tradition.  The  holy  season  was 
again  near  at  hand  when  Mr.  Stearns  sought 
once  more  the  lawyer's  office.  There  had  been 
a  great  deal  of  change  in  the  meantime, — the 
change  which  makes  Washington  the  great 
sand-beach  of  American  life,  not  its  center  as 
other  capitals  are,  but  the  shore  on  which  the 
waves  of  Oblivion  break.  The  name  upon  the 
door  was  "  Phelps  &  Wolcott  "  now  ;  but  the 
same  calm-faced  man  sat  at  the  desk.  The 
reporter  had  prospered,  too  :  he  was  a  city 
editor  now,  and  bade  fair  to  become  a  lumi- 
nary in  his  profession.  He  seemed  much  an- 
noyed at  something,  and  held  a  newspaper  in 
his  hand.  The  greeting  which  passed  between 
the  two  was  somewhat  constrained. 

"  Have  you  seen  that  ?  "  asked  the  young 
man,  laying  the  newspaper  on  the  other's  desk 
and  pointing  to  a  paragraph  as  he  spoke. 

The  lawyer  read  the  following : 

"  A  very  interesting  ceremony  will  take 
place  in  this  city  on  Christmas  Eve.  It  is 
understood  that  a  wealthy  young  lady,  for- 
merly of  Washington,  will  at  that  time  take 
the  vows  of  a  noviciate  of  the  order  of  'Sisters 
of  Mercy,'  devoting  herself  especially  to  work 
among  the  colored  people.  Her  fortune,  which 
is  said  to  be  a  large  one,  has  already  been 
placed  in  the  hands  of  trustees  to  be  used  for 
advancing  the  interests  of  that  race.  Her  life 


PENALTIES.  357 

is  believed  to  be  full  of  mystery  and  romance, 
but  just  what  the  reasons  are  which  induce 
a  young,  lovely,  and  accomplished  lady  to 
take  this  step,  it  seems  almost  impossible 
to  conceive.  It  is  rumored  that  the  pos- 
tulate will  take  the  name  of  '  Sister  Pac- 
tola.' " 

When  he  had  concluded  its  perusal,  he 
looked  quietly  up  at  the  young  man's  flushed 
face. 

"You  knew  about  it?"  asked  the  editor, 
hotly. 

The  lawyer  bowed  gravely. 

"It  is ?" 

The  lawyer  bowed  again. 

"And  you  advised  it,  I  suppose?"  The 
young  man  spoke  bitterly. 

"  My  advice  was  not  asked." 

"  Why  didn't  you  stop  it — why  don't  you 
stop  it  now?" 

His  companion  smiled  sadly,  but  made  no 
answer. 

"It  ought  to  be  done;  it  shall  be  done! 
She  is  throwing  herself  away !  Where  is  her 
brother?" 

No  answer  was  given  to  the  imperious 
inquiry. 

"Oh,  I  will  find  out!  You  need  not  think 
you  can  balk  me.  You  would  not  tell  me 


35 8  PACTOLUS  PKIMR. 

where  she  was  hidden;  but  I  found  her!" 
The  young  man  spoke  very  confidently. 

"  Did  any  good  result  ?  "  asked  the  lawyer, 
gravely. 

The  younger  man's  face  flushed. 

"  Of  course, — I  couldn't — if  it  had  not  been 
for  my  mother — perhaps — 

"  Do  not  excuse  yourself,"  interrupted  the 
lawyer,  commiseratingly.  "  You  are  only  one 
of  many — very  many — who  dare  not  for- 
get." 

"  But  her  brother, — he  might — I  am  sure  I 
could  make  him  interfere  1  I  will  too.  If 
you  will  not  tell  me  where  he  is,  I  will  find 
him." 

"Is  not  one  victim  enough?"  asked  the 
other,  impressively.  "Would  it  not  be  better 
to  leave  him  to  work  out  his  own  destiny !  " 

"  But  why  does  she  do  it — what  reason  does 
she  give  ?  " 

"  She  says,"  replied  the  lawyer  gravely, 
"that  she  sees  no  other  way  to  avoid  either 
deception  or  the  confession  of  inferiority." 

"  But  she  has  no  right  to  bury  herself — one 
with  her  gifts!  Did  you  tell  her  that?" 

"  I  had  no  right  to  do  so." 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  could  not  deny  the  truth  of  her  words." 

"My    God!"    exclaimed    the   young    man, 


PENAL  /7/-: .V.  359 

starting  to  his  feet,  and  staggering  blindly 
toward  the  door.  He  forgot  the  accustomed 
parting  words,  and  the  lawyer  after  a  moment's 
pause,  and  a  long-drawn  sigh,  went  on  with 
his  work.  But  before  him — across  the  open 
page— floated  often  the  fateful  words,  "  Sister 
Pactola." 


THE   END. 


A     000  041  846    7 


ft! 


